


State Secrets

by Maddie_Jae



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Arranged Marriage, Charlie Bradbury is a Winchester, Dragon Dean Winchester, M/M, Omega Castiel, Omega Castiel/Alpha Dean Winchester, Omegaverse, TEMPORARY major character "death"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2019-09-18 13:12:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16995642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maddie_Jae/pseuds/Maddie_Jae
Summary: The young prince Castiel is having an arranged marriage to the crowned prince of the dragons, a race who up until recently were at war with Castiel's angelic kin.  Castiel and Dean's marriage is meant to bring about an era of peace between the two nations, but when an attempt is made on Castiel's life, it marks the beginning of a downward spiral of lies, deceit, and betrayal.  Castiel's death would surely bring about another war between the two races, which turns out would only be the second worst outcome.





	1. Chapter 1

Castiel had known from a very young age that he would have his future spouse picked out for him.  As a child born to King Charles, King of the Southern Isles and leader of angelkind, Castiel had expected that he would be wed for the continuation of peace instead of for love.  Unlike most of Castiel’s siblings, he was fine with the idea of an arranged marriage. After all, it was only proper that marriage of a royal family member would be one to strengthen the ties between two nations.  What he hadn’t known, though, was that he would be married to a dragon.

He found out at sixteen, two days after his first heat had faded, on the day that the first of the letters arrived for Castiel.  

 

Castiel’s mother, Naomi, looked angry.  Angry enough that Castiel didn’t dare ask her why his father had summoned him with such urgency or if he was in trouble for something.  He thought about the miniature statue he’d accidentally melted instead of mending in his magic lessons the week before, and wondered if his father was going to punish him for his incompetence.  Castiel had never been punished for being less talented at magic than his siblings, but neither had he been officially summoned by his father while he was working. Besides, mending a simple ceramic figurine should have been easy, and Castiel had failed _quite_ spectacularly.

Castiel walked beside his mother in silence, occasionally brushing her light pinkish wings with one of his own dark gray ones.  Naomi didn’t pull away from Castiel’s light touches, which made him think that whatever she was upset about, she at least didn’t seem to be angry at Castiel.  

When Castiel and his mother reached the door that led to Castiel’s father’s office, his mother didn’t hesitate or knock before throwing open the door and ushering Castiel inside.

“He’s here, Charles.”  Castiel’s mother said shortly, and the tone of her voice answered one of Castiel’s questions, at least.  She was angry with her husband, Castiel’s father.

“Oh, good, good.”  Castiel’s father said, waving his son and wife into the room.  Castiel had only been in his father’s office a few times, and just like his last visit, King Charles was nearly hidden from view behind his gigantic desk and the stacks of parchment on top of it.  “How are you feeling, Castiel?”

“Fine.”  Castiel said, feeling slightly mortified.  His father was of course referring to Castiel’s recent heat.  Castiel had been expecting to present as an alpha like his brothers Michael and Gadreel, or maybe a beta like Gabriel and Anna.  

Finding out he was an omega had been a surprise, and not a completely welcome one.  It was taking some adjusting, especially since everyone was treating him like he was made of glass all of the sudden.  For example; Castiel was fairly sure his father had never asked any of Castiel’s alpha brothers how they were feeling after their first rut.

“Good, good, I’m glad.  Well, Castiel, I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve called for you.”  King Charles said quickly, his gaze travelling to Castiel’s mother as he spoke.

“Yes, sir.”  Castiel said distractedly, looking to his mother as well and seeing that she was glaring daggers at Castiel’s father.

“I’m not telling him, Charles.”  Naomi said firmly, as if they’d already had this conversation behind closed doors.  “You did this. You’ll be the one to tell your son his fate.”

“Fate?”  Castiel asked, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead as he looked back to his father.  “What’s going on?”

“Your mother exaggerates.”  King Charles assured Castiel, then paused to gather his thoughts.  “You know Michael and Lucifer both have arrangements to be mated?”

Castiel nodded, wondering what his elder brothers’ marriages had to do with him.  Michael’s mate was nice, Castiel especially liked her pure white wings. She was living with Castiel’s family now, even though she and Michael were still several months away from their wedding date.  Castiel hadn’t met Lucifer’s intended yet, as she lived on the mainland and would stay there for the next several months, until she came of age.

But Castiel was the seventh child, not the third.  He certainly wasn’t the next in line to be married, he was only sixteen, after all.  Raphael was the next in line for marriage. Castiel’s third eldest sibling was a bright, studious young alpha.  Any parents would be pleased to have such a match for their child, and certainly wouldn’t want to skip down the line of children to Castiel.

“Well, your arrangement is a bit different from theirs.”  Charles said, and Castiel heard his mother scoff quietly.

“Oh!”  Castiel exclaimed, his sudden understanding clearing his pinched expression.  “I’m being wed to a human.” Humans married young, as early as seventeen or eighteen, to compensate for their shorter lifespans.  

“Uh, no, not a human.”  Charles said with a frown, and Castiel waited in silence while his father hesitated and heaved a great sigh.  “Castiel, do you know your history?”

“Yes.”  Castiel said slowly, thoroughly lost with this turn in the conversation.

“You know the war our people had with the dragons.”  Charles said, and Castiel nodded.

“I know the humans used to worship our kind as deities, and the dragons wanted the humans’ favor for themselves.  The dragons won and that’s when we moved South, to the islands.” Castiel said, a touch of fear making his voice shake.  “Are we threatened with war against the dragons again?” A great many angels died facing the dragons in battle, and while Castiel would never be asked to fight now that he’d presented as an omega, he sorely did not want to see his brothers’ deaths to such beasts.

“We are not, and your marriage will ensure we will never be again.”  Charles said, pulling an envelope out of his desk drawer.

“What do you mean?”  Castiel asked hesitantly, walking forward to take the letter his father was handing out for him.  Castiel’s name was written on the front in an elegant calligraphy.

“Part of the peace agreement between our nations is that you would marry their prince.”  King Charles said. “Not to worry, son. He’s about your age.” Castiel gaped openly at his father, and action that his mother normally would have scolded him for.  

“A dragon.”  Castiel said, his voice coming out slightly strangled.  “I’m marrying a dragon.” Castiel looked to his mother, who was looking on with pity, and back to his father, who couldn’t quite seem to meet the young omega’s eyes.

 

The agreement had been in place since before Castiel had been born; the eldest omega child of King Charles was promised to the eldest alpha child of the dragon ruler, King John.

The letter for Castiel was from the dragons’ prince.  Castiel was instructed by his parents to have his reply ready before the next shipment to the Northern mountains went out.  It gave him less than a day to write his first letter.

Castiel walked back to his room with shaking hands and a blank, far-off expression on his face.  He looked down at the letter from his betrothed for a long time before he worked up the courage to break the wax seal and read what was written inside.

 

_Lord Castiel of the Southern Isles,_

_Hello, my name is Dean of Winchester, crowned prince of the twelve dragon families of the Northern Mountains.  Our fathers have arranged for us to be married, and I hope that our matrimony will bring about a second era of peace.  As I’m sure you know, our countries were at odds with each other for several hundred years, and though the violence ended long before either of us were born, there are many deeply-ingrained wounds on both sides.  I agree with my father that a marriage between angel and dragonkind would help heal those wounds, and I look forward to working side by side with you towards a stronger, more lasting peace between our nations._

_It is my understanding that you still have a few years until you come of age.  Until then, I hope you might consider letting us get to know one another through letters.  I would hate to think that we will meet as strangers when we have so much time to be put to good use._

_I’d love to hear anything you wish to tell me, and am in turn an open book for your questions._

_I wish you all the best and hope to hear from you often._

_Best regards,_

_Dean_

 

As sudden as his father’s announcement had been, Castiel stayed up late into the night to write his reply to Dean’s letter.  His father had instructed him to have one ready by morning, but Castiel wouldn’t have wanted to make Dean wait, with or without his father’s demands.  After all, it wasn’t his parent’s arranging a marriage for him that was surprising, Castiel had just assumed that he’d end up with another angel instead of someone of a different species.

Even though Castiel had stayed up until the wee hours of the morning, he still managed to rise with the sun to take the letter down to the docks where the sugar cane shipments were being loaded onto boats.

Castiel stood by the shore, slowly breathing in the warm air that blew in from the ocean and watching as the boats grew smaller and smaller on the horizon.

The crowned prince’s letters were written in a tight, cramped scrawl that Castiel thought was inflective of the dragon’s personality.  “I imagine him to be a typical alpha,” he’d told his mother one day, about two months into his correspondence with Dean. “His handwriting is almost as messy and hurried as Gadreel’s.  I’d expect he’s busy with hunting and fighting, along with all the other demands of his position as crowned prince.” Castiel thought his deductions were perfectly sound until his mother kindly explained that the dragon prince must have had a human servant write the letter for him.  

Castiel had silently berated himself for being so silly, _of course_ a dragon can’t write.  At least not with pen and paper like a human or angel.

Still, Castiel drafted reply after reply under his mother’s watchful eye, and the young angel received a letter every other week before sending another letter in reply off into the world.  He learned quite a bit about Dean, who was a few years older than Castiel, had two younger siblings, was a fierce hunter, and an avid fan of music.

 

_Dear Castiel,_

_My father has strictly forbidden me to waste my time on fancies such as the arts, but sometimes I’ll prop open the doors of the learning rooms so that I can sneak in after the hatchlings classes.  There’s an old organ down there that students can practice on. I’ve gotten quite good, and have even composed some of my own pieces of music. I’ll play them for you someday, if you’d like…._

 

Castiel had a difficult time wrapping his mind around an organ that was large enough for a dragon to play, but soon put it out of his mind.  There were endless possibilities; maybe the organ was oversized, maybe it was specially altered. Or maybe a dragon’s version of an organ didn’t resemble a human or angel’s version of an organ in the slightest.  Whichever way, he’d find out eventually.

 

_Dear Dean,_

_I envy your talent and eagerness to make music, could I borrow some?  My mother continues to try to make me learn to play the harp and it’s honestly the dullest endeavour I can imagine.  If you manage to bottle up your abilities, please enclose it in the next letter you send me, it would make my mother very happy…._

 

_Dear Castiel,_

_I am sorry to say that though I searched the tomes in the library, I didn’t find a single clue as to send you a piece of my musical genius.  However, I must agree with you in your reluctance to play the harp; it sounds a grueling thing to learn. Not to mention cliched; did you know that every mention I’ve found of angelkind, they’re always holding or playing a harp?  If you’d excuse my brashness, because I must ask; is that a truth, or did artists and historians over exaggerate your people’s love of stringed instruments? …._

 

_Dearest Dean,_

_Your last letter made me laugh so, especially your mentioning the harps.  I am afraid to say that harps are a favorite of my people as a whole, so your dragon and possibly human historians are not wrong on that front._

_Unfortunately, you sending me a bottle of musical genius was my last chance at ever playing an instrument.  I hope that you, as a musician, are not disappointed by my lack of skill and short patience for such practices.  Though if the offer still stands, I would love to hear your compositions someday…._

 

As their correspondence continued, their letters grew progressively longer.  Castiel told Dean _everything_ , from his day to day life on the island, to arguments and funny stories with his siblings, to his work as a letter carrier for his father’s diplomats.  He took great pride in his job, and flying around the island kept him in great shape and let him stretch his wings. Though when the time came, he excitedly told Dean when his mother allowed him to help manage the shipments between Castiel’s island and the Northern mountains.

 

_Dearest Dean,_

_Though being a postman for the ambassadors and senators was nice while it lasted, I am very pleased to share that I have taken over the position of managing the shipments between our two kingdoms.  I am responsible for receiving the supply orders from your homeland, passing the requested supplies along to the managers of the sugar cane fields, and ensuring that the proper amount is shipped off.  So if any future shipments are incorrect, please accept my most sincere preemptive apology (though I hope that does not happen, as I have someone more knowledgeable check over my work before any shipments are sent your way.)_

_I also manage the orders from our side, which is an extremely stressful task that I found myself wholly underprepared for.  But fret not, I have a patient and qualified teacher by my side, who just so happens to be my mother…._

 

_Dear Castiel,_

_I am glad you are enjoying your new job, and will rest easy knowing that each shipment must have your seal of approval before it begins its journey.  I am proud of you for your endeavours, and know you will learn your trade quickly and efficiently._

_If I am not very mistaken (and I inquired about this to my father, so I know that I am not), you will manage the very same shipments once you are living here with me.  I pray that day comes quickly, if I may say so. I know you well by your letters, and as always look forward to meeting you…._

_I hope this letter finds you in good health and with minimal stress from your new job,_

_Dean_

 

When Castiel wasn’t working in the ambassador’s office doing shipping paperwork, he was kept plenty busy in his classes with the rest of his siblings.  Classes included the basics like music, reading, writing, arithmetic, and history, as well as a class to teach them the finer points of political debate.  Castiel was taught and was expected to adhere to strict manners, proper style of dress, way of speaking, and most importantly, being kind and polite to anyone and everyone who wished for a moment of his time.

However, Castiel’s favorite class by far was housed in an open-air arena down by the sea caves.  The arena was located far from any of the docks, markets, or homes of the island’s inhabitants. It was there that the young angels of the island gathered to learn magic.

Of all of Castiel’s siblings, his elder brother Gabriel had the most natural talent for magic.  He could learn a spell seemingly in an instant, and often boasted that he’d learned to heal a broken wing in just three tries.  Even advanced spells, ones that Castiel’s eldest brother Michael, who was nine years Castiel’s senior, had trouble with posed no problem for Gabriel.

Castiel and Gabriel were especially close.  They, along with Castiel’s elder sister Anna, made a trio that were rarely seen outside of each other’s company.

_Dear Dean,_

_If you remember back to my letter from a few months ago, when I mentioned that my mother has forbidden all of her children to learn to sail, then you will know how badly I am in trouble.  Also keep in mind that sailing is extremely dangerous for my kin, for if we get our wings wet we are unable to fly, and angels are so slight that the weight of our water-logged wings will drag us to our deaths in the depths of the sea._

_Yesterday Anna, Gabriel, and I stole a fishing boat from the docks to teach ourselves how to sail, and managed to sail it all of twenty feet into the harbor before a gust of wind caught our main sail wrong and turned us to the side.  A wave then flipped our boat, and there was nothing we could do to stop it._

_Fret not for my safety, nor for the safety of my siblings.  All three of us managed to take to the air before our foolishness claimed our lives.  My mother and father were livid, and the only positive thing I’ve heard from them since is that they are glad we had the sense not to let our youngest sibling, a girl of four years named Hael, tag along.  Hael has been following us around for a few weeks now and normally we don’t mind, but I’m glad indeed that Anna thought to send her away before we caused such a mess…._

_Yours truly,_

_Castiel_

_My dearest Castiel,_

_You know not the worry I feel in my heart when you tell me you partake of such reckless behaviors!  When I read your last letter, I was shaking with anxiousness even though I knew it must have all turned out fine, lest you be unable to write me.  I am glad beyond measure that you and your siblings are well, but I may have to agree with your mother on this one; sailing might not be the best idea.  I would hate to lose you to the sea before I even get the chance to meet you…._

_Please_ _stay safe,_

_Dean_

What Castiel didn’t mention about his and his siblings’ close call with the boat was that Gabriel had used his magic to instantly freeze half the bay.  The boat had been frozen in place, which had been the only reason Castiel had enough time to escape.

If Castiel hadn’t gotten caught in the rigging, they might have conceivably gotten away with their misadventure by blaming faulty anchor lines for letting the boat drift away from the dock.  He couldn’t share that part of his misadventure with Dean, however, because Castiel’s parents had strictly forbidden him from revealing to his betrothed the specifics of his or any other angel’s magical abilities.  

They explained to Castiel that a species’ magical skill was a secret from all other species.  Should the knowledge become widespread, an opposing country could use that knowledge against them.  Since angels and dragons had fought in the past, and had only a tentative working relationship now, it was imperative that Dean never know about Castiel’s magic.

Castiel dearly hoped his and Dean’s two species would never again face each other on the field of battle, and reminded himself that his marriage to Dean would help ensure just that.  Still, he followed his parent’s instructions to a T, and never so much as mentioned the word ‘magic’ in his letters to Dean, even when he would have loved to tell Dean about his accomplishments in the craft.

 

When Castiel had first learned that he was to wed the dragon’s crowned prince, he’d gone to the library in his father’s castle to read up on Dean’s kin.  Most of the books had focused on how to kill dragons, and most of the older angels on Castiel’s island had only seen dragons because they had faced them on the battlefield.

Castiel tried to avoid the older warriors, they never seemed to have anything positive to say on Castiel’s future marriage or about Dean’s kin.  If anything, they offered to pull Castiel aside to teach him in private how to slay a dragon. He vehemently refused until his mother forced him to accept a few lessons from them.

“This is _not_ the purpose of my marriage!”  Castiel had exclaimed wildly when his mother told him he was to learn from the elders how to kill dragons.  “I’m supposed to be an ambassador between our nations, not an assassin sent to wed the prince! Dean would never hurt me, so why must I learn such an awful skill?”

“It is not Dean that concerns me, my love.”  Castiel’s mother said with a frown at Castiel’s outburst.  “I’m worried what might happen if one of Dean’s subjects were to object to your marriage.”  Castiel frowned and he clutched the front of his tunic in fear. He hadn’t thought that the older members of Dean’s race might be just as angry (and frankly, racist) as the older warriors of Castiel’s own kin.

Castiel dutifully learned what the warriors taught him, though he vowed to never harm Dean.  Even if Dean were to turn against Castiel, something that Castiel didn’t believe would _ever_ happen, Castiel would not harm his betrothed.  A second war would not come about by his hands.

 

For Castiel’s seventeenth birthday present, Dean hunted down a Were to demonstrate his skill as a hunter.  Dean’s letter explained that Weres were giant wolves that lived in the mountains of the North, and were one of the only land animals that could go toe-to-toe with an adult dragon.  The dragon prince made Castiel a blanket from the fur pelt of the giant wolf and sent it to the Southern isles in the largest crate Castiel had seen come in from the mountains. When spread out, the fur blanket covered the entirety of Castiel’s bedroom, it was almost a foot thick and was incredibly soft.  Castiel and his siblings could only imagine how large a beast must be in order to product a pelt so large.

“The dragon prince must be bigger than our castle!”  Anna exclaimed. “What are you even going to _do_ with this, Castiel?  It barely fits in your bedroom!”

“Maybe father would like to hang it in the dining hall?”  Castiel suggested as he spread his wings and rubbed his feathers through the soft fur of the blanket.  “The ceilings in there are tall enough.”

“I hope for your sake that children aren’t in the marriage arrangement.”  Gabriel said with a chuckle and an elbow into Castiel’s ribs. “You wouldn’t last a night with a groom so big.”  Anna had cursed Gabriel’s wicked tongue and sent their brother away with several smacks from her wings, but Gabriel’s words got Castiel thinking.

The young omega wasn’t exactly sure what to expect from a marriage between an angel and a dragon.  Most adult male angels topped out at around six feet in height, with twelve to fifteen foot wingspans, and weighing somewhere in the vicinity of one hundred and fifty pounds.  

Though he and Dean had been writing regularly for half a year at that point, Castiel had never seen a dragon in person.  Despite that, there was no doubt in Castiel’s mind that Gabriel had been right in one thing. He and Dean would not have a typical marriage.

Even though Castiel only had references that viewed dragons through the red lens of war, Castiel learned as much as he could.  He read that dragons could range anywhere from the size of a small house to several stories tall at the shoulder and their scales could be any color imaginable.  They had massive jaws that can crush anything from bones to boulders, spiked tails like battering rams, and wings larger than sails on the greatest of ships. Dragons had magic in their blood, though what exactly they were capable of wasn’t clear, and Castiel suspected that dragons kept such knowledge secret just as the angels did.  

The most impressive thing he learned about dragons was that they really could breathe fire.  The knowledge floored Castiel, who sent off a letter asking Dean if he knew how to breathe fire immediately.

 

_My dearest Castiel,_

_You asked if I could breathe fire, and the answer is yes.  I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that such knowledge has faded and that you had to read about it in a book.  To settle your questions; I would say most dragons can produce fire. There are a few who cannot, though they are few and far between.  Dragon chicks as young as six months can produce fire, and the ability becomes easier to control with age. For example, my father can keep up a breath of fire for over five minutes, and though I have a long ways to go before I can say the same of myself…._

 

Castiel also learned that dragons could speak very well, but their language was a difficult one to learn as it was all growls and clicks.  They had human servants that were raised in the dragons’ halls since infancy to translate their language for them. Most of the books called these humans slaves, but Castiel’s father said that was a fallacy.

Gabriel continued in his teasing about future children between Castiel and Dean.  But when Castiel asked, his father assured him that children most certainly were _not_ in the marriage contract, saying “ignore your brothers and their teasing, Castiel, you have nothing to worry about.”

Still, Castiel worried.

Dean’s letters kept coming, giving the angel insight to the personality of his betrothed despite the formality of the letters.  Castiel guessed the dragon prince had a parent proof-read his letters before they were sent, just as Castiel’s mother insisted on knowing the content of Castiel’s letters.

 

Castiel learned that Dean had never tried chocolate, which was a delicacy produced on the islands on which Castiel lived.  Castiel sent a box of chocolates with his next letter for Dean to try, promising more if Dean liked them. The dragon prince loved them, and as thanks he sent Castiel an assortment of candies.  A few of which allowed the angel to breathe fire for a few minutes after ingesting them (something the angel was _very_ impressed with and not at all expecting).  

 

_Dean,_

_I received the sweets you sent me, and of course I tried one immediately.  In all my wildest dreams, I wouldn’t have imagined that some of them could make an angel breathe fire.  I only barely avoided setting my bed and little brother ablaze (Samandriel is fine, he just has a few short patches of hair where he got singed).  While my mother was furious, my siblings and I found them to be great fun, though if you wouldn’t mind enclosing a warning next time. It would be sorrowful indeed to lose a little sibling to a piece of candy…._

 

_My darling Castiel,_

_I’m so sorry for the fiasco that followed you eating the sweets I sent.  I really didn’t think they could make anything but a dragon breathe fire!  Beg my forgiveness to Samandriel for me, it was never my intention to send you something dangerous (though, if I may say, I had to laugh when I read that you nearly burned down your bed)._

_You really don’t have to send a box of chocolates with each letter, it wasn’t at all my intention to insinuate that.  My little siblings love the chocolate as well, and they begged me to beg you to keep sending them if it is convenient…._

 

For Dean’s twentieth birthday, Castiel sent an extra-large box of chocolates, a silver dipped rose hand-made by Castiel, and a golden amulet that he charmed to bring the wearer good luck, though in his letter he made the good luck charm sound more like superstition than actual magic.  Dean’s thank-you gift was a quill made from a feather of something called a Humnlog. The feather was as large as one of Castiel’s outstretched wings, but light enough that his hand wouldn’t cramp while using it.

_Castiel,_

_Thank you for my birthday gifts, though I couldn’t enjoy more than a few pieces of chocolate.  My siblings raided my bedroom and ate most of the chocolates while I was assisting my father in a task.  Karma rained down her fury on them, they both got stomach aches that lasted well into the night. It was very satisfying to see them pay for their wickedness.  The rose is sitting on my desk and outshines everything else I have in my posession. As for the amulet, I wear it daily, and have seen some improvement in my endeavours across the board.  I don’t know if you were jesting when you said the amulet brought good fortunes, but I think I agree with you, it is a rare piece of curious abilities._

_Enclosed is a Humnlog quill, made from the flight wings of the only feathered creature of my homeland.  Humnlogs are quite big, and plenty capable of blinding a full grown dragon or breaking necks of younger dragons such as myself, so this feather isn’t a trophy of a hunt as much as a trophy of my stealth.  I had to follow the bird for several days before it dropped a sizeable feather for me to send you…._

As the summer passed and Castiel’s eighteenth birthday steadily approached, the omega’s trepidation grew.  He liked Dean well enough, as well as one could from only conversing through letters that were parent-approved.  To add to Castiel’s apprehension, he got his first look at a dragon two months before he was set to leave for the Northern Mountains, when an unscheduled letter from Dean came via a state’s visit.

 

Three dragons stood upon the cliffs overlooking the South sea, gleaming like shining, colorful gems in the afternoon sun.  They were all taller at the shoulder than a two-story house, with sharp spikes flowing down the center of their backs, large mouths filled with razor-sharp teeth, and huge clawed hands that looked capable of crushing the life out of the greatest of beasts.  Castiel’s eyes were the size of dinner plates as he approached the visitors with his parents and the rest of the royal court. He couldn’t believe he’d be married to a beast so large in just a few short months.

The dragons brought two humans with them; an older man with skin the color of dark chocolate and a young woman with pink cheeks who appeared to be learning the trade of translating the dragon’s tongue.

Castiel’s father welcomed the visitors, receiving a series of growls and high-pitched keening in return that the human man translated as thanks for the angels’ hospitality.  Castiel wondered how the humans were able to learn the dragon language. Even if had been were raised around dragons, the beast’s words sounded like nothing more meaningful than the snarling of a dog to Castiel.  Still, he’d have to ask one of the humans who understand the language to teach him, otherwise he’ll never be able to have a private conversation with his betrothed.

The human man introduced the dragons as Bobby, Samuel, and Jody.  Castiel had no idea which one was which.

The omega prince tuned most of the conversation out, looking instead to the dragons’ physical appearance.  There was a blood red dragon in the foreground, the largest of the three and the one doing most of the talking.  He had a long neck with sharp spikes on the sides of his face where his cheeks would be, and sharp ridges on his cheekbones and above his eyes that sprouted horns further back on his face.  

On the right was a dragon the color of sapphires, he had a thinner, sleeker body than the red and was definitely smaller, with scales that faded into a lighter blue on his belly and tips of his wings.  The blue dragon didn’t have any fangs sticking out, and had a flat forehead with no horns.

The dragon on the left was gray, which Castiel initially discounted as ugly, but the more he looked at the subtle shimmering and blending of different shades, the more he thought the plain color beautiful.  Though all the dragons kept their massive, leathery wings tucked close to their bodies, Castiel could see short talons at their tips.

Castiel stiffened when the big red dragon took a step forward and dropped his massive head down to Castiel’s height.  The dragon looked the angel up and down critically for a long moment before stepping back and uttering a series of clicks and groans.

“Lord Samuel wishes to convey his gladness to meet his grandson Dean’s future mate.”  The human man said, and Castiel bowed deeply.

“It is surely a pleasure, Lord Samuel.”  Castiel replied, and the red dragon nodded once before turning back to Castiel’s father and chittering at him.

“Lord Samuel thanks King Charles for his hospitality.”  The man said, nudging the human girl until she walked forward with a letter in her outstretched hand.  Castiel’s father accepted it, voicing his well-wishes before bidding the guests farewell and turning back towards his home.

Castiel followed, a little slowly because he kept looking over his shoulder at the dragons.  He watched the human man climb into the waiting clawed hand of the gray dragon, and the human girl do the same with the blue one.  The dragons launched themselves from the cliffs, circling the island once before heading North.

Castiel was given his letter once they were back in the castle.  He ran to his bedroom with his siblings Gabriel, Anna, and Hael on his heels, all as eager as he to know what the letter contained.  It read;

 

_My Dearest Castiel,_

_I have been informed that we are finally to meet!  I am to accompany my grandfather Samuel, whom you have likely just made the acquaintance of, to your islands in the South Sea as part of your escort to the Northern Kingdom.  We are set to be there on the day of celebration of your birth._

_Yours always, Dean_

 

_P.S.  I apologize for the brevity of this letter, I was so excited to finally meet you that I had to write, and only had a few moments to pen this before my grandfather was scheduled to leave._

 

“Two months.”  Anna said sadly, leaning heavily into Castiel’s side.  “So soon. And you’re still so young.”

“Father said dragons are different from us.”  Castiel said softly. “He said they come of age at eighteen, not twenty.  To wait any longer would be insulting, and they might even think we’ve backed out of the arrangement and take it as a breech of the peace treaty.”

“Don’t sound so down, Castiel.”  Gabriel said, clapping him lightly on the shoulder.  “Don’t act like you aren’t looking forward to heading off with your giant, fire-breathing boyfriend.”  His attempt at humor fell flat, though Castiel could tell from his brother’s voice that his heart wasn’t really into brevity right now, anyway.

“You won’t forget us, right?”  Hael asked softly. Castiel’s youngest sister, a child of only six years, had her bottom lip poked out, her eyes bright and wet like she was about to start crying at any moment.

“I could never forget you.”  Castiel assured her, pulling his baby sister into his lap and pressing a kiss to her forehead.  “How could I forget the people I love?”

“You can visit.”  Anna said, then bit her lip.  “And if you can’t, we’ll visit you, Castiel.”

“Thank you.”  He whispered, feeling his own tears leaking out as his siblings wrapped their arms and wings around him in a group hug.

 

The next several weeks passed by in a blur.  Castiel’s belongings had to be packed and shipped early so they would be waiting for him in his new home once he arrived, and he was kept very busy with his preparations to leave.

His letters with Dean continued as normal.  Or at least, Castiel thought they were normal until he received a letter with a little paper insert that said;

 

_I had to write this separate because my father forbade me to broach the subject, but you’re my future mate and I care about you.  I beg your forgiveness for my forwardness, but I have to ask; are you all right? The tone of your letters of late have been worrisome.  I know we don’t actually know each other, but I hope you know you can talk to me about anything, even if you are feeling apprehensive about our marriage or for your move away from your homeland.  I care for you deeply, Castiel, and feel as if I’ve known you all my life._

_Yours always, completely, and truly,_

_Dean._

 

Castiel immediately felt like an ass, and penned a private response that he slipped into the envelope of his next letter just as Dean’s private message had been.  He assured Dean that he was fine. He admitted that he was nervous, but didn’t have any second thoughts.

 _I am truly looking forward to finally meeting you, Dean,_ he wrote as a P.S.  He tucked the separate message in and held the letter to his chest.  This would be the last letter he’d ever send to Dean, as Castiel’s eighteenth birthday was only three weeks away.

He wasn’t even expecting Dean to send another letter, as it would arrive only two days before the crowned dragon prince was scheduled to arrive.  But of course Dean wouldn’t let Castiel down; Dean had been absolutely steadfast during their correspondence, that didn’t change just because their time as penpals was coming to a close.

 

_My Dearest Castiel,_

_I dearly hope this letter finds you in good health and good spirits.  At the time of writing, my kin and I are preparing for my departure to your homeland, and I must admit that I am nervous to finally meet you.  I have this idea of what you look like in my mind, but am sure that you will be even more beautiful than I could have ever imagined._

_As excited as I am to see you, I’m nervous to let you see me.  I wanted to let you know that I still have some growing to do, so if I look a bit smaller than the others of my kin, rest assured that I’ll fill out within a few years._

_Always yours,_

_Dean_

_P.S.  I’m the maroon-colored one_


	2. Chapter 2

_ My Dearest Castiel, _

_ I dearly hope this letter finds you in good health and good spirits.  At the time of writing, my kin and I are preparing for my departure to your homeland, and I must admit that I am nervous to finally meet you.  I have this idea of what you look like in my mind, but am sure that you will be even more beautiful than I could have ever imagined.  _

_ As excited as I am to see you, I’m nervous to let you see me.  I wanted to let you know that I still have some growing to do, so if I look a bit smaller than the others of my kin, rest assured that I’ll fill out within a few years.   _

_ Always yours,  _

_ Dean _

_ P.S.  I’m the maroon-colored one _

  
  


Castiel chewed on his lip as he re-read Dean’s letter for probably the millionth time.  It was the morning of his birthday, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, and after he let the hand that was holding Dean’s letter drop into his lap, he stared blankly at a small trunk in the middle of his room that was packed and ready to go.  His bedroom walls were bare where they were once filled with his belongings, his bookshelves empty of all but his least favorite stories.

He couldn’t believe today was here.  He couldn’t believe he’d be leaving his home, his family, his friends, and his entire life behind before the sun sets on today.  It just didn’t feel real.

He read Dean’s letter again before folding it and tucking it into the pocket of his sundress.  The smaller, maroon dragon would be his husband. It occurred to Castiel that he’d never described himself to Dean before, that Dean wouldn’t know to look for a thin, dark haired angel with dark gray wings.  But Castiel would know which dragon was Dean the instant he saw him. 

It didn’t seem fair.  Castiel wished he had told Dean what he looked like, but his mother had told him to take it out when he’d first put it in a letter.  She’d said it was inappropriate. It seemed vital now.

A light knocking on Castiel’s bedroom door wrenched him from his thoughts.  Anna opened the door slowly, her too-sad face framed by red locks, and Castiel took a moment to commit his favorite sibling’s face to memory.  He wasn’t sure when he’d see her again after today.

“Castiel, are you listening?”  She asked, coming to sit next to him on the edge of his bed.

“No, sorry.”  He said with a small smile as she ran her fingers through his wild hair.  “What did you say?”

“I said that mother and father are waiting for you.  The sentries spotted the dragons’ state party approaching from the North, and they want you there to welcome the guests.”  Anna grabbed Castiel’s hand and tangled their fingers together, and the two sat quietly for a few moments.

“It’s going to be fine, Anna.”  Castiel said softly. “Dean is really nice.”

“You don’t really know him.”  Anna murmured. “People can pretend to be a lot of things in letters.  I worry for you.”

“It’s going to be fine.”  Castiel said again without much conviction.  He dropped his head onto Anna’s shoulder and let her run her fingers through his hair some more.  He sighed at the soothing contact and wrapped his arms and wings around his sister’s shoulders. 

He wished he didn’t have to leave his family in order to be married to Dean, though he knew such a wish was folly.  Dragons and angels couldn’t live together. It would be odd enough to have a single angel amongst the dragons, never mind his whole family or their entire species.

Anna heaved a heavy sigh and kissed Castiel’s forehead.  “We’d better hurry.” She said softly, cuddling for only a moment more before standing and pulling Castiel to his feet.

“You’re coming with me?”  Castiel asked as he let himself be guided from his bedroom.  “To a state’s visit? You hate politics.”

“I wouldn’t leave you, Castiel, not today.”  Anna assured him, giving his fingers a light squeeze.

“Thank you, Anna.”  Castiel whispered. He didn’t trust his voice not to crack with the wave of emotion that passed over him from seeing his sister look back over her shoulder at him with a soft smile on her lips.  Her eyes held absolute love in their depths, it had Castiel wishing he could bask in that love for a little longer.

She led him down the hallway and out of their home, and Castiel took in the soft arches and light colors of their home silently.  He did his best to memorize his childhood home so that he wouldn’t forget a single detail in the long, lonely years to come.

 

Castiel waited with his sister and the members of the royal court upon the same cliffs on which they had welcomed the dragons during their last visit.  The young omega was sweating slightly in the morning sun, though there was a light breeze coming from the ocean that rustled his hair and feathers.

“Stop fidgeting, Castiel.”  His mother told him sternly, and though he attempted to radiate calm and collectedness, he soon succumbed to his nerves once again.  The sun was too warm upon his skin, the grass tickled his toes through the gaps in his leather sandals and he shifted from foot to foot to scratch at his feet and legs.  He tugged at the edge of his sundress as the breeze made it flutter against his thighs, and silently bemoaned the fact that his birthday hadn’t fallen during a winter month so he could rationalize wearing shorts, or anything more than just a light dress and underwear.

Anna tugged on his arm sharply, making him stand up straight just in time to see the dragons beginning to circle the island.  Castiel squinted and shielded his eyes against the bright morning sun, looking for maroon scales, but the dragons were too high up and too close to the sun to tell which dragon was which.

They circled down to land one at a time.  The blood-red dragon, Dean’s grandfather Samuel, was the first to shake the ground as he landed.  Samuel inclined his scaly head to Castiel’s father as the grayscale dragon joined them on the cliff.  The dark-skinned human that had translated for the dragons on their last visit climbed from the gray dragon’s front hand, and the man quickly stepped forward to translate Samuel’s low growling.

“Lord Samuel wishes to convey his well wishes to King Charles, and thanks him for his hospitality and steadfastness in the continuation of peace.”

Castiel tuned out his father’s reply in favor of watching the same sapphire blue dragon from last time touch down on the waving grass with more finesse than the first two dragons.  The pink-cheeked human girl that had delivered Dean’s letter emerged from her hand, and the two walked forwards together. The dragons and humans alike eyed the amassed angels with unreadable expressions.

Castiel and Anna still had their eyes turned towards the sky, squinting against the harsh sun and waiting impatiently as a  _ huge _ navy blue dragon shook the ground as it landed behind the sapphire blue one.  This was the first dragon that hadn’t been party to the last state visit from the dragons.  He was big, bigger even than Samuel, Castiel felt his eyes grow wide as he took in what had to be all two hundred feet of the beast.  His wings were so dark they were almost black, and his fangs were sharp and long enough that they stuck out the sides of the dragon’s mouth.  Castiel shivered as the navy blue dragon’s eyes passed over him, and fervently hoped that Dean’s appearance wouldn’t be as frightening.

After what felt like  _ eons _ , Castiel watched Dean spiral down and land beside the big navy blue dragon.  Castiel could barely keep the smile off his face as he watched Dean slowly fold his massive wings and look up and down the line of angels with sharp, green eyes.

Dean was nearly the smallest dragon there (Castiel thought Dean was at least a  _ smidge _ taller than the sapphire blue dragon), and was indeed dwarfed when standing beside his navy blue companion.  Dean’s body was slim, though Castiel could see muscles bunching under shiny maroon scales as Dean walked. He had a visible pair of sharp fangs where a dog’s canines would be, but otherwise his teeth were hidden behind his lips.  A long row of spikes ran down the length of his back, their color a brilliant white. His legs were as thick as tree trunks, his tail as long as the fishing boats the angels used to sail around the reefs.

While he looked the same as the other dragons, there was one glaring difference.  Dean had two long horns that poked out of his skull along the ridge that served as his eyebrows, just as his grandfather Samuel did.  Dean’s horns twisted up and back, and there was a shiny silver cuff around each of them them that looked to Castiel like they had been polished for the occasion.  The horns along with the silver cuffs looked a little like a crown, they distinguished Dean from his fellow kin as their future king.

Castiel felt a relief in his chest and a smile pulling back on his lips as he observed his mate-to-be.  Dean was a handsome dragon. Even as inexperienced as the young angel was concerning dragons, Castiel could tell that Dean was exceptional among his kind.

The angelic prince watched as Dean scanned the row of angels, his scaly expression unreadable.  His eyes didn’t linger on Castiel, though they didn’t truly linger on anyone besides Castiel’s father, since King Charles was the only angel speaking.

“What do you think?”  Anna whispered into Castiel’s ear, squeezing his hand where their fingers were still entwined.  Anna had read Dean’s last letter just as Castiel had, she knew Dean was the maroon one.

“He’s gorgeous.”  Castiel murmured back, risking a glance at his sister that left them both in a fit of hushed giggles.  The siblings were quickly admonished by their mother, and when Castiel looked back to their dragon guests, Dean’s sharp eyes were on them.

 

Castiel’s parents had arranged an outdoor lunch for their guests.  Tarps from large, dragon-sized tents flapped in the breeze, and Castiel sighed as he escaped the hot sun.  He watched attentively as Dean and the navy blue dragon followed Samuel and the other dragons towards the tents.  Castiel would have very much liked to walk right up to Dean and gush about how he was so glad to finally meet, but introducing himself wouldn’t be proper.  He’d have to wait until one of the dragons introduced them. 

While the food was still being brought out, Castiel was dragged around the space by his mother, Anna dutifully stayed by his side, while he was introduced to the dragons she’d already made an acquaintance with.

He’d met Samuel once before and even had a brief conversation with him.  Castiel would have liked to avoid the blood-red dragon and his sharp, judging eyes, but the young prince played nice and had a long talk with his betrothed’s grandfather.  Samuel asked about Castiel’s upbringing, his education, hobbies, books that he’d read, and songs and poetry that he’d written. He wanted to know whether Castiel could cook, how well he could fly, if he could sing.  He even went so far as to ask when Castiel’s last heat had been, but thankfully Castiel had been saved from answering that question by the gray dragon’s interference.

The gray dragon introduced himself as Bobby, identified himself as Dean’s uncle, and introduced the human translator as Rufus.  Bobby apologized for Samuel’s questioning, but immediately followed up with his own set of inquiries, though none were as personal as Samuel’s question about Castiel’s heats.

The next dragon Castiel’s mother dragged him over to was the sapphire blue one; Jody.  Castiel stammered through the first few minutes of conversation when he’d incorrectly assumed she was a male, though Jody didn’t seem bothered by his honest mistake.  The human girl that was translating for Jody, who Castiel learned was named Claire, laughed at the angel for his mistake and was chastised by the dragon with a sharp snap of her jaws.  The sound had Castiel taking a sharp step back and made his feathers ruffle. Jody was nice despite her fierce jaws, and asked only a few questions, mostly about the islands Castiel called home, before focusing her conversation on Castiel’s mother.

Bobby came up to them just before lunch was served to offer to introduce Castiel, Anna, and their mother to Dean.  Castiel could only nod, his voice caught somewhere between a scream and a squeal in his chest.

Claire accompanied them, leading the angels and gray dragon to a far corner of the tents.  Dean was sitting up straight, eyes locked on Castiel even before he’d started towards the maroon dragon.  The navy blue dragon was by his side, though his bulk was unfortunately so large that he could only fit his head and long neck inside the tents.

“My ladies and gentleman, may I introduce Dean, crowned prince of the North and heir to the throne of dragonkind.”  Claire translated for Bobby. Castiel bit back a smile as Dean bowed his head. “And this is Prince Dean’s right hand man, Benny.”  The huge, navy blue dragon winked one enormous eye at them, and Castiel and Anna couldn’t help but laugh quietly at his easy familiarity.

“Dean, I’d like to introduce Lady Naomi, Queen of the Southern Isles.”  Claire continued to translate for Bobby, and Dean shuffled forward to bow his head to Castiel’s mother.  “And her daughter,” Claire continued over Bobby’s growling clicks, “Lady Anna, Princess of the Southern Isles.”  Castiel squeezed Anna’s hand nervously as she curtsied to Castiel’s soon-to-be.

“And Lord Castiel, Prince of the Southern Isles.”  Bright green eyes framed by dark maroon scales locked onto Castiel, and the young prince placed his palm upon his chest and bowed slightly.  When he looked up again he was grinning, and he bit his bottom lip lightly as Claire started translating again, though this time it was Dean’s words that she voiced.

“I am honored to make your acquaintance, Queen Naomi.  And yours, Princess Anna. And yours, Prince Castiel.” Castiel felt Anna squeeze his fingers as their mother replied, asking how the dragon prince’s trip had been and what he thought of the islands.

“The winds were fair, my lady.”  Dean said, his chest reverberating as he moaned out his dragon speech.  “As for the islands, I’ve never seen a land so green. Or so hot.”

Castiel’s mother laughed politely at that, and Dean started speaking again, this time with his eyes locked onto Castiel.  Before he could fully speak and before Claire could translate it for him, an announcement was called out signaling it time to eat.  Castiel, Anna, and their mother regretfully begged Dean’s pardon before taking their leave.

“Damn it all.”  Castiel muttered to Anna as they walked towards their seats.  “I didn’t even get to talk to him.” His mother shot a warning glance at him for his foul language, and he lowered his head in shame until she turned away again.

“What do you think?”  Anna asked him quietly.  “He’s a very handsome dragon.  And the silver inlaid on his horns make him look very proper.”  Castiel couldn’t help the blush that crept onto his cheeks.

“He is exceptionally handsome.”  Castiel agreed. “He’s bigger than I’d thought he’d be.”

“Aw, Castiel, you’re blushing.”  Anna teased, and he laughed with her and felt his cheeks heat up further.  “Do you think you’ll like him?”

“It’s hard to tell now, you know?  Everything is so formal about state’s visits.”  Castiel said as they took their seats. “I would have liked something less crowded and less official than a state’s visit for our first meeting.”

“You would have liked some alone time, eh, Cassie?”  Gabriel asked loudly as he came up behind them to take a seat next to Castiel.  “Spend some time getting to  _ know him _ ?”  Castiel and Anna both shushed him urgently, and Castiel couldn’t help but glance at Dean.  Dean still had his eyes glued on them, his scaly expression unreadable, and Castiel worried about how good a dragon’s hearing might be.

Gabriel got a sharp elbow in his ribs for his teasing, whether Dean had heard him or not.

All of Castiel’s siblings attended the lunch, which was unusual in itself considering over half of them detested states visits and avoided politics at all costs.  Part of Castiel would have liked a smaller audience, but mostly he was pleased to spend what little time he had left on his island with his family. Gabriel and Anna sat on either side of Castiel, and Hael insisted on sitting in his lap to eat.  Castiel’s oldest brothers, Michael and Lucifer, sat closer to their parents and talked with the dragon Samuel while they ate. Raphael and Gadreel sat side by side, not talking to anyone but lending their silent support to their brother just by being there.

Castiel’s younger siblings, Samandriel, Ambriel, Hanna, Mirabel, and Uriel, crowded around Castiel.  Uriel sat in Gabriel’s lap, Mirabel in Anna’s, and the others moved their seats so they could sit across the table from him, much to their mother’s annoyance, since the table was meant to have seats on only one side.

Castiel didn’t mind his siblings’ crowding, and none of the dragons seemed offended by the children hogging Castiel’s attention.  They were a rowdy bunch, though, as siblings often are. They kept getting shushed by their mother and older brothers. Every time Castiel happened to look up, he saw that Dean was watching them with what he supposed was the dragon equivalent of a bemused expression.  Seeing Dean’s gaze on him made Castiel blush and grow self-conscious every time.

After the midday feast was eaten and the plates and glasses taken away, Castiel’s younger siblings, along with Anna and Gabriel, pulled Castiel towards Dean and set about asking the dragon prince a million questions.  Dean called out for Claire to translate, his voice similar to a bugle horn, and settled in to patiently answer the many questions of Castiel’s siblings.

“What’s your home like?  Is it  _ always  _ cold up there?”  Mirabel asked.

“Not always, but it’s so cold that the snow never melts and just builds up or blows away.  It’s quite windy in the mountains.” Dean answered through Claire, and though Claire sounded a bit bored, Castiel was sure Dean was taking the young angels’ questions seriously.

“What’s snow?”  Hael asked next, and Castiel had to explain that most young angels, him and his siblings included, rarely left their sunny islands in the tropics, and had never seen snow.  The only reason Castiel knew if its existence was because Dean had once described it for him in one of his letters.

“Do you know what ice is?”  Dean asked the children, and received several blank stares and a few shakes of heads in response.  “Okay, then. Snow is like the fleece from a baby sheep, except it’s cold. It’s white as those puffy clouds in the sky, and when it piles up and stays cold, it can turn hard and break wings.”

Castiel’s siblings were very fascinated with snow, and asked Dean and Castiel to send them some back when they got to the mountains.  Dean tried several times that the snow would melt before the shipment would arrive.

“But  _ why  _ would it melt?”  Hanna asked after the fifth time Dean explained himself.   “Where would it go?” Dean sighed and the navy blue Benny nudged him with his tail.  A few untranslated remarks were passed between them, and Castiel quickly admonished his siblings and told them they needed to find a new subject or else leave Dean alone.

“Do you like honey?  ‘Cause Castiel loves honey.”  Uriel asked.

“I’ve never tried it.”  Dean answered, his scaley head tilting slightly, studying the tiny angel that was brave enough to seat himself on the dragon’s forefoot.  “What is honey?” Dean’s question sent Samandriel and Hanna off running to fetch some wild honey from the pantries for the dragon to taste.  Dean answered several more questions while they were gone, but made sure to pay them attention when they returned.

“Eat this, Dean!”  Samandriel encouraged, holding a big bottle of honey out to the dragon.  Only, Dean couldn’t exactly take it from him on his own. If he tried to grasp the glass bottle, his claws would likely break it, and he’d need help getting the lid off.  Gabriel encouraged their little siblings to help Dean out by pouring some in his mouth, but all of the young angels were too afraid to get close to his mouth and his long, sharp teeth.

Castiel was immensely thankful when Claire stepped up to the plate.  He’d worried that the task of feeding the dragon some honey would fall on him, since he was the one engaged to the fire-breathing beast.  Claire let the little ones sweat it out for a short while, then offered to help, and Samandriel quickly handed over the responsibility.

The angels waited with smiles on their faces while Claire poured honey into Dean’s gaping jaws (and honestly, Castiel didn’t know how she could stand doing it, her hands could have been snapped off at any moment) and Dean smacked his mouth loudly and rolled his long, thin tongue through the sticky mess.

He didn’t say anything for a long while, but was making noises that were apparently unusual for a dragon to make, because Claire and the dark navy dragon Benny started laughing uproariously at him.

“What do you think, Dean?”  Castiel asked over Benny’s trumpet-like laughter.

“It’s good,” Claire translated, still half-overwhelmed by hearty chuckles, “Very sweet.  I’ve certainly never had anything like it.”

“Castiel makes the  _ best  _ honey rolls.”  Hael piped up, holding onto Castiel’s leg and watching the dragons with wide eyes.

“Yes, you’ll have to ask him to make you some.”  Anna agreed, tickling the back of Castiel’s neck teasingly.

“Dean, can you tell us a story?”  Uriel asked, who had abandoned his spot on Dean’s forefoot to sit in his group of siblings before Dean had tasted the honey.  Dean lowered his head down on his long neck to look at Dean’s youngest brother and looked thoughtful. Castiel had to suppress a laugh, because while Dean looked like he was thinking very hard, a slow curl of dark smoke rose out of his left nostril.

“What story would you like to hear?”  Dean asked the amassed angels, and Castiel’s younger siblings quickly devolved into whispers as they tried to decide amongst themselves.

“Tell us of your fight with the beast that made the pelt you sent to Castiel!”  Gabriel called out. Though he was a beta and therefore not much of a warrior himself, Gabriel was always one for a good story of combat.

Dean let out a low chuckle, and several plumes of dark smoke escaped his nostrils with each  _ huc-huc-huck. _  “That is a story.”  Claire translated, a hint of humor in the human girl’s voice.

“Word came to my home of a giant Were that was terrorizing the area to the North of the Eastern Caves, that it was eating their herds of reindeer and coming too close to the hatchinglings while they were out for flying lessons.  My buddy Benny and I decided to go check it out, and after we got permission from my father, King John, we set our wings East.

“We initially meant to just drive the beast away, but when we got there we realized the wolf had fallen into madness from too many winters spent alone in the snow.  It was attacking anything that moved, even the great evergreen trees were attacked with teeth and claws as they swayed in the breeze.” Dean’s story had Castiel and all of his siblings leaning forward eagerly.  Even Michael and Gadreel had wandered over to listen in, and Lucifer and Raphael were headed over as well.

“I knew that trying to fight the beast head-on would be any dragon’s downfall.  This Were was old, and since Weres never stop growing, he stood taller than the trees.  From my snout to tail I was as long as it was tall, I could barely reach its underbelly with my hind claws on the ground.”  Gasps ran through the small crowd of angel children, and Castiel felt his blood racing through his veins at Dean’s story, despite already knowing the outcome.

“I asked Benny to distract it, but to stay out of harm’s way and let me try and down the beast on my own.  I buried myself in a snowdrift and waited for Benny to bring the beast around. He flew high in the air, just out of reach of the jaws of the mighty Were, and led it near my hiding place.  When it wandered close enough, I jumped free of the snow, climbed a nearby tree, and jumped onto the front of the beast’s chest. I clamped my jaws on its throat and dug in all of my talons.”  Castiel could see several of his siblings clinging to each other in fear. Dean and Benny watched their silliness with a twinkle in their eyes.

“The Were was nothing if not formidable, and it hadn’t lived such a long and hardy life in the Northern mountains without fighting a dragon or two in its time.  With a single swipe of its front paw, the beast threw me off, casting me into the trunks of trees that snapped into splinters under my scales.”

“It was a devastating blow.”  Benny interrupted, the vibrations in his chest even deeper than Dean’s were.  “I thought it was the end of our crowned prince.”

“I somehow managed not to break my neck.”  Dean agreed, his bright eyes faraway, seeing a battle that was long passed.  “A tree branch had pierced my wing, and before I could again face my enemy I had to pull it out.  My blue blood stained the snow of the battlefield, and I could no longer fly away, not even to save my own life.”  Dean stretched out his right wing, turning his long neck so his snout was pointing out a thick patch of scar tissue.  Castiel gasped right along with his younger siblings, he’d had no idea how close Dean had come to peril while fighting the wolf that Castiel’s pelt blanket was made from.

“Benny distracted the beast, diving to breathe fire into its face then flying just out of reach.  He gave me enough time to right myself.” Dean’s tail whipped to the side, smacking Benny along the flank with the tip, though managing to avoid spearing his friend with the sharp spikes at the end.  The dark blue dragon let out a huff of smoke and what Castiel supposed was laughter before mimicking the gesture.

“While the beast was looking up, watching Benny as he flew overhead, I leapt forward and bit its neck again.  This time my jaws clamped down on an artery, and-.” Dean interrupted himself, looking down on the angelic children as if unsure how gory or clean he should make his story.

“Anyway,” Claire said pointedly to Dean, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yes, anyway, the beast fell and Benny went to the Eastern caves for assistance.  While he was gone I cut the pelt that would make Castiel’s blanket, and we had a feast with the Eastern families that night from its meat.”  Dean said, his scaly head nodding once.

Castiel’s siblings squealed, breaking out into a hundred different questions.  Castiel smiled softly at Dean, in awe of his tenacity and bravery.

“Surely you exaggerate the size of the wolf.”  Raphael said, speaking over the squawking of his siblings.  Castiel grit his teeth at his brother and tried to hush him before he could well and truly insult Dean.  Not to mention the rest of the dragon guests, since more than half of everyone in attendance had listened in on Dean’s tale, but Raphael pressed on.  “Surely a beast of the magnitude you described could wear a pelt four times the size of the blanket that once hung in the dining hall.”

Surprisingly, Dean laughed out a smoky  _ huc-huc-huc _ again.  “You have a good eye for detail, angelic prince.”  Dean complimented Castiel’s brother after a moment, “Indeed, Castiel got one of five blankets made from that Were.  The other four went to myself, my two siblings, and my mother.”

Castiel paled just thinking about it; he had listened to Dean’s story thinking of a wolf the size of the pelt Dean had sent him, not one five times that size.  He quickly apologized for Raphael’s rudeness, but Dean just lowered one eye down to Castiel’s level and winked lazily at him. “There is nothing to apologize for, prince Castiel.”

Castiel’s mother came for him then, she hugged him tightly and sent him back to the castle, where he was to change into traveling clothes and prepare to leave.  It was such a quick thing, he had been so lost in his siblings questions and in Dean’s story that he’d run out of time. He’d had so little of it, and now it was gone.

Castiel’s hands were shaking as he walked with Anna, Gabriel, and Hael back to their home, and Anna had to help him lace up his tunic because his fingers were trembling so badly.

 

“You must write me every day.”  Anna whispered into his ear as she hugged him.  They were standing on the edge of the field that ended in the cliffs that looked over the sea.  The tarps of the tent they had just eaten lunch in flapped loudly in the breeze as Castiel bade his family goodbye.  Castiel’s backpack sat low on his shoulders, and his trunk was waiting on the turf next to Benny, ready to be carried off.  All the dragons in Dean’s company were gathered near the cliffs, waiting for Castiel so they could set off.

“I’ll come and visit as often as possible.”  Castiel promised his favorite sister, though he had no idea how often that would be.  He didn’t know what would happen once he left with Dean and the rest of the dragons. Castiel had never even left his island before, much less fly all the way to the Northern Mountains with a group of dragons he barely knew.

“I left a gift for you in your trunk.”  Anna said, stepping back with tears in her eyes.  “So did mother.” 

Gabriel hugged him next, then his father, who had a few words of well-wishes and wisdom that Castiel barely listened to.  His older siblings hugged him quickly, and his younger siblings clinged to him with tears in their eyes. Hael and Uriel, the youngest of them, cried especially loud and had to be pried away from Castiel by their older brothers.  Castiel couldn’t help the tears that spilled out onto his cheeks as he watched them cry into Michael and Lucifer’s shoulders.

“Be kind and loving.”  His mother instructed, coming up to him and running her fingers through his wild hair.  Castiel frowned as he looked up at her, unsure of the look she was giving him. “Keep your feathers clean.”  She leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead, then pulled him to her chest in a hug. “I love you so much, Castiel.  I wish you all the joy in life.”

Castiel giggled, an almost hysterical sound.  “Come on, mother.” He joked, “You act as if you’ll never see me again.”

The look in his mother’s eyes was harrowing.  Castiel had to turn away before he was pulled into his mother’s grief.  He tried not to think on the reason for such profound sadness. He was be back before too long, after all.  He was determined that this would not be the last time he looked upon his island.

“The winds are fair, Castiel!”  Rufus called, translating for Samuel.  “We must be off! There’s far to fly before our first stop.”

Castiel was shaking like a leaf as he walked up to Dean’s massive form.  The dragon held a clawed hand out for Castiel to crawl into, his eyes sharp and searching, though Castiel could barely bring himself to worry about what Dean saw in his expression when he looked at him.  He kept his eyes on his family and waved as Dean took off. They circled the island three times, waiting for Bobby, Jody, and Benny to join them in the air, before facing North and flying headlong into Castiel’s new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter will be posted on January 11, 2019. Thank you for reading and Happy New Year!


	3. Chapter 3

Castiel would be lying if he said he didn’t cry during the first several hours of their flight.  Not even the breathtaking sights of the sea or the other islands along the chain of Castiel’s homeland could distract him from the pain of loss he was feeling.  His grief consumed him, he felt as if he would forever be destroyed by the loss of his family and island.

But eventually, and ever so slowly, his tears lessened.  The sobs that racked his body and made it difficult to breathe faded and left him feeling empty and beaten.  He laid listlessly in Dean’s palm, tears still streaming out of his cheeks, and stared blankly at a patch of maroon scales until his aching shoulder forced him to roll over.

He wrapped his wings around him and pushed his fingers through his feathers, an action he’d done to calm himself since he was a child.  He was half pretending it was Anna or Gabriel’s wings he was wrapped in, which brought on a new round of tears and pathetic sniffles.

Luckily, Dean didn’t seem to notice that anything was amiss.  Focused as Dean must be on flying in formation with his kin, Castiel wasn’t expecting the maroon dragon to be paying much attention to the tiny angel resting between his curled talons.  Dean didn’t seem interested in speaking, and both the human translators had ridden in the palms of the other dragons, anyway.

Once Castiel’s tears had truly seemed to end, he reclined against the palm of his soon-to-be’s hand, his booted feet propped up against one of Dean’s curled fingers.  Wind whipped his hair around and ruffled his feathers, the howling of it so loud that he doubted Dean would hear his words even if he’d wanted to speak to the dragon. Once he calmed down a bit and he’d guzzled some water to try and lessen the headache that was sure to be coming from crying so hard for so long, Castiel sat up and peered out of the gap between Dean’s thumb and foreclaw.  

The sun was setting, it sat low on the horizon, turning the sky shades of pink and orange.  They were long past the ocean now, the dragons were soaring over land that stretched to every corner of the world that Castiel could see.  Castiel kneeled on the edge of Dean’s palm and leaned against a curled finger as he watched the patchwork quilt of farmland pass by below them.  The sight was beautiful, breathtakingly so, but Castiel could hardly to more than stare blankly out at it.

He felt numb inside; for all his preparations, he hadn’t been ready to leave his family or his island, and he felt as if he were leaving half of himself behind.  He sighed heavily and hugged one of his knees to his chest. He didn’t want to keep wallowing in his own despair, but there was nothing to do up here besides get lost in his own thoughts.

Castiel sighed again and wrapped a wing around himself to ward off the chill; night was quickly approaching and the heat of the day was leaking away.  He had a jacket in his trunk that he was pretty sure was in Benny’s hand, but he’d have to wait until they stopped for the night to get it. His eyes turned down, and he watched a flock of geese pass by below them, traveling in the same direction as the dragons but seemingly moving backwards because the dragons were flying so quickly.  

A small smile lifted one corner of the young angel’s face as he looked down at the geese.  There seemed to be a great distance between them and the birds, and he was sure the geese were flying quite high as well.  Castiel wondered how high the dragons were flying as he looked down on them. It was hard to judge since there wasn’t a tiny island below them in the water like Castiel was used to.  The young angel expected that the great expanse of land covering the world below them would look much the same at 200 feet in the air as it would at 1200 feet.

“I’ve never flown this high.”  Castiel said conversationally on the off-chance Dean would be able to hear him.  He waited a moment for a low moan of draconic reply, but when none were forthcoming he sighed again and looked towards the horizon.

The sun was lowering itself behind a low line of clouds.  Soon Castiel’s eighteenth birthday would be behind him, along with his already retreating childhood, his family, and his island.

The thought was sobering, it wiped any remnant of a smile off Castiel’s face.  He had never had such an unpleasant birthday. Normally Castiel and his siblings would spend each other’s birthdays together, they would always take to the skies and chase each other around the island.  

Castiel remembers that last year on his birthday, he and Anna had been teaching Uriel how to do a controlled fall to avoid being caught by his elder siblings during their game of tag.  Uriel had shrieked in fear and only had the courage to fold his wings and fall for a moment or two before snapping them back open. The memory played before his eyes like he was still in the air above his island, surrounded by his siblings, laughing at Uriel’s antics.

Castiel, for his part, loved to fall through the air.  He’d long ago learned to trust his own wings, and stopped feeling any fear of hitting the ground so that he was able to enjoy the feeling of weightlessness and butterflies in his stomach as he dropped through the air like a stone.  He loved flying in general, but there was something visceral about falling.

He sighed again when he realized all of that was in the past.  He was an adult now, off to his politically arranged marriage. He’d have no time for fun after today.

He sat up sharply, his wings puffling and allowing the wind to ruffle through his feathers.  The day was almost over, but not quite finished. He didn’t have to give up childish things just yet, and taking to the skies was a birthday tradition for Castiel and his siblings.  Why should he give up his favorite part of birthdays just because he was expected to act like a diplomat? He wasn’t married  _ yet _ .

The thought crossed his mind and he didn’t think twice.  Castiel didn’t even rise to his feet before leaning forward and letting himself bodily tumble out of the safety of Dean’s curled claws.

An alarm like a bugle horn rang out immediately, and Castiel’s body turned slowly as he fell so that he was looking up at a dark burgundy dragon who was twisting in the air and grabbing at Castiel with one huge hand that was spiked with sharp claws.  Castiel panicked for a moment from seeing a dragon bearing down on him, all sharp teeth and hard scales. He’d read enough books to know how easily those teeth and claws could rip apart an angel’s flesh. 

Castiel shouted, a high-pitched embarrassing yelp of fear, and snapped his wings open. Air twisted his wings so that he was flying instead of falling, and, much quicker and more agile than a bulky dragon could hope to follow, he maneuvered around Dean’s outstretched hand, under his long belly, through his curled back legs, and twisted around the dragon’s strong tail, careful to avoid the spikes at the tip.

Castiel flapped his wings hard to gain altitude on Dean, the sound of blood rushing in his ears only slightly louder than the howling of the wind.  The other dragons were watching him, their attention gathered by Dean’s warning. They were all steadfastly flying North, but had swiveled their heads around on long necks to see what all the commotion was about.

Castiel quailed under the hard eyes of the dragons for only a moment before Dean caught up to him.  Air buffeted the angel, forcing him to the left slightly as Dean retook his position between Jody and Benny, and suddenly Castiel was looking into one of his betrothed’s huge green eyes.

Castiel didn’t have enough experience with dragons to be able to decipher the look Dean was giving him, but he flashed the maroon dragon a shy grin before twisting around Dean’s massive head in an over-under corkscrew.  He laughed as he steadied himself, and checked around himself to see if he was making a complete fool of himself.

Samuel was in the lead, he had turned his long neck around so he was facing forward once again, clearly uninterested in Castiel’s flight so long as everyone was keeping pace with the huge red beast.  Jody was facing forward as well, but had her head tilted to one side so she could watch the skies above and below for any predators (though Castiel didn’t know of any predators dragons had outside of the Northern mountains).  Bobby was taking up the rear, but wasn’t watching Castiel closely either, so Castiel figured him flying was fine.

The only audience he had were the sharp eyes of Dean and Benny, and neither of them seemed to be looking at him with any disdain.  Castiel startled slightly when Dean let out a musical fluttery noise, and the angel laughed at the toothy grin on his soon-to-be’s face.  Castiel corkscrewed in place and Dean made the musical noise again. 

With a few hard flaps of his wings, Castiel rose above Dean and took a long moment to appreciate his close-up view of a dragon in flight.

Dragons were normally very private creatures, they liked to keep to themselves in their caves up North and interact with only the creatures native to their own lands.  Castiel knew he was immeasurably lucky, lucky to be able to look upon the strong yet flexing expanse of Dean’s outstretched wings and the careful way he held his tail to guide him like a rudder on a boat.  He was lucky to be able to look upon a member of such a legendary race without his ministrations being viewed as aggressive or generally unwelcome, and subsequently being attacked.

Dean and Benny both had their heads tilted to the side and were watching Castiel carefully out of one eye.  Castiel found himself wondering just what Dean and Benny’s relationship was, how Benny felt free to unabashedly watch Castiel just as thoroughly as Dean, while everyone else in their small party were keeping their gazes elsewhere.

Dean made another trilling sound and a wiggle wound down his impressive length.  Castiel was unsure of dragon body language, but the movement  _ almost _ looked playful.  The angel tilted his head sideways and raised his hands out to his sides as if they were a second pair of wings, laughing when Dean let a cloud of dark smoke erupt from his nostrils.  Castiel flew through it without fear for his clothes, they were just traveling clothes, after all, and any soot stains would be well worth the fun.

Castiel laughed and coughed as he burst through the cloud of smoke, and when Dean let out another cloud, Castiel swerved to avoid it.  It became a game of sorts, Dean would let out several puffs of smoke out in a row, and Castiel would have to pull some of his best moves to avoid them.  It was nice, Castiel thought, it kind of broke the ice between him and his soon-to-be husband despite the glaring fact that they couldn’t talk to each other without a human interpreter.

The dragons flew faster than Castiel was used to, though, and before the sun was completely hidden below the horizon Castiel was too tired to keep up with them.  He had to fly as fast as he possibly could so that he wouldn’t fall behind, and he couldn’t keep his sprint up for long before he was panting for breath from the exertion.  He pushed through, feeling the burn in the muscles in his back and shoulders until he could stand the pain no longer.

He swooped neatly around Dean’s front shoulder and headed for the forefoot Dean had been holding him in.  He nearly crashed into Dean’s palm, since the opening between the dragon’s thumb and forefinger was too small to fly through with his wings open, and Castiel couldn’t really slow down without missing his target entirely.  

He just barely managed to catch himself before he broke his nose on one of Dean’s claws, and after the shock of his close call wore off he laughed until he was wheezing and could hardly breathe.  It would be just his luck if he had hurt himself and started bleeding all over his soon-to-be husband’s hand within their first day of meeting.

Chuckles dying down, Castiel made himself comfortable on Dean’s palm and smiled softly to himself.  This wasn’t so bad. Dean was fun, and nice, and he was probably feeling as many twisted, conflicting emotions as Castiel was.  The angel told himself again he could do this, as if saying it to himself would make it true. His eyelids started drooping as he wondered what his siblings were doing right now, and he yawned hugely.

He didn’t think the dragons would fault him for falling asleep before they made camp for the night.  The sun was now low below the horizon and Castiel was emotionally exhausted from saying goodbye to his family, along with being physically exhausted from trying to keep wing with the dragons as they sped over the land.  Castiel curled his wings around himself to keep the cool night air out, half laying on his left wing. It was kind of uncomfortable, but his feathers felt good against his cheek. He drifted off to sleep listening to the howling of the wind.

 

When Castiel awoke, it wasn’t so he could move into a sleeping roll for the night.  He woke up in pitch blackness and he was shivering so hard he could barely force himself to sit up.  He was still tucked into Dean’s hand, and judging by the howling of the now-frigid wind, they were still flying high in the air.  Castiel crawled to the opening between Dean’s thumb and forefinger to look out.

He could barely see Dean’s bulk, but knew it must be what was blocking out the stars.  He could hear the hard flapping of gigantic wings, but couldn’t see Jody, who had been on Dean’s right when Castiel had been flying earlier.

The dragons hadn’t stopped at all for the night.  Castiel had the feeling it would be too much to hope that they would stop before the sun rose again.

Another harsh shiver racked the young angel’s frame, and Castiel pushed himself to his feet and reached above him to grab ahold of Dean’s thumb.  His breath caught once he finally grabbed it. He was leaning forward with his feet barely reaching Dean’s palm, and as another wave of shivers ran down his cold and cramped muscles, he knew that if he fell, he wouldn’t be able to fly properly.  He wondered if Dean would be able to catch him in the dark, or if he would even notice if he were to fall out of the dragon’s huge hand.

Castiel put such morbid thoughts out of his mind as he pulled against Dean’s thumb.  If he could just get the dragon to move it over the opening, the wind wouldn’t be able to get inside and Castiel wouldn’t be so cold.  Castiel pulled and tugged, but even when he put his full 108 pounds of weight against Dean’s thumb, the huge finger didn’t budge.

“Come on!”  Castiel said through chattering teeth, moving down the line of Dean’s thumb until he found the claw.  He grabbed the far end of the claw and pulled again, though this time it seemed that Dean understood what the angel wanted.  The opening closed soundly and the ear-splitting howling of the wind died down, leaving a ringing in Castiel’s ears that was nearly as loud as the wind had been.

“Thank you.”  Castiel sighed, though he knew there was no way Dean could hear him.  He collapsed to his hands and knees and crawled back to the middle of Dean’s palm, where he curled into a ball with his wings wrapped around him and fell almost immediately back to sleep.

 

“Wake up, Castiel.”  A woman’s voice said.

Castiel groaned and squeezed his wings around him tighter, he hugged his chest and tried to continue sleeping.

“Hey, wake up.”  She said again, and Castiel felt a warm hand shove against his back, just between his wings.

“Go away, Anna.”  Castiel murmured as a full-body shiver ran down his frame.  “It’s too early.” He was freezing, and his wings weren’t enough to stave off the early morning chill.  Not to mention that the backside of his legs weren’t covered at all. He risked poking a hand out of the circle of his wings to try and feel for a blanket that he must have kicked off during the night.

“Your royal highness.”  The voice said. “Wake up or you’ll miss breakfast.  And Dean would really like to relax his hand sometime today.”

Castiel frowned for a split second before his memories of the day before returned to him.  He immediately sat up with a gasp to find himself in a giant’s dark red palm. A smirk marked Claire’s face as she peaked in at him between Dean’s curled fingers.

“‘Bout time.”  She said before turning away and disappearing from Castiel’s view.  Outside Dean’s hand Castiel could see a lush green hill and the broad backside of a gray dragon, along with the bright reds and oranges of an early morning sky.  Castiel quickly grabbed his backpack and scooted out of Dean’s hand, he got to his feet and walked a few steps away from Dean to get out from underfoot. He curled his wings around himself as the cool morning air threatened to take his breath away.

It was so cold, in fact, that Castiel’s breath turned into a tiny cloud as it escaped his nose.  The dragons had them as well, though their breath clouds weren’t so tiny. Castiel could barely believe that anywhere got so cold even with the proof right in front of him.  Even his thick traveling clothes, his shorts that came to just above his knees and tunic that covered his hips and went almost to his elbows, weren’t enough to keep him warm.  He shivered as he huddled in his wings.

The five dragons were crouched in a circle surrounding around a small cooking fire, where Claire and Rufus were busy cooking what looked like a rabbit over a skewer.  Castiel made a face at the food, but if the sharp clench of his empty stomach was any indication, he knew he’d eat his share of breakfast without complaint. He’d missed dinner last night, after all, and had only had a few nibbles of the food he’d packed in his backpack.

Behind him, Dean stretched out the hand that Castiel had been sleeping in and chittered at the angel to get his attention.  When Castiel turned to look at his betrothed, the maroon dragon gave him a lazy wink and let out a series of growls and clicks.

“Good morning, Dean.”  Castiel said on the off-chance Dean had said what Castiel thought he’d said.  He was glad they were finally on the ground. Maybe now Castiel could have an actual conversation with Dean, since they’d been denied the chance yesterday during lunch.

“He didn’t say good morning.”  Claire called over, and Castiel immediately felt foolish.  “He asked what you thought of the mainland.”

“Oh, um.”  Castiel said, turning his attention back to Dean.  “It’s very big, it’s weird to look down from the air and not see a tiny speck of green surrounded by water.”  Dean made a  _ huc-huc  _ sound and stretched like a cat, his teeth glinting in the morning sun as he yawned hugely.

“Castiel,”  Claire translated as Dean began to knead the ground with his claws and subsequently churned the earth as he did so.  It almost looked like a nervous gesture, and Castiel noticed that Dean wasn’t quite meeting the angel’s eyes. “I wanted to tell you yesterday while we were flying together, but you have a very impressive wingspan.”

“Oh, um.”  Castiel said, unsure of what to make of Dean’s remark.  It wasn’t quite a compliment, was it? Dean wasn’t complimenting the pleasant color of Castiel’s feathers, or their soft texture or cleanliness.  Though Castiel supposed that remarking on one’s wingspan might be a considered a compliment amongst the dragons, as the different species might have differences in what characteristics made wings attractive.

“Thank you.”  Castiel said, trying not to phrase his thanks as a question.  Dean nodded once, then ducked his head and didn’t reply, and the two fell into an awkward silence.

“What time did we make camp last night?”  Castiel asked, desperate for their first semi-private conversation to go well.  Dean tilted his head to get a better look at him before answering in a low moan.

“He said that we didn’t make camp.  We just stopped to make you breakfast, because he’d read that angels eat more often than dragons do.”  Claire said.

“You didn’t sleep?”  Castiel asked Dean with a frown, and the gigantic beast shook his head twice, his sharp eyes never leaving Castiel’s face.  “Aren’t you tired?” Again Dean shook his head twice before answering.

“I might not be used to flying for so long, but I’ll be ready to go with everyone else as soon as your breakfast is done.”  The dragon paused and began kneading the earth again. “It is nice to have a short break, though.” Claire translated, and Castiel frowned again.

“Oh, alright, then.”  He said, not sure what to make of Dean’s slightly defensive phrasing.  He sincerely hoped that he hadn’t just implied that Dean was weak or something.  He rubbed the bare skin on his lower arms with his palms and shivered again. This was unbelievable; he was cold even with his wings wrapped around himself.

Not knowing what else to say and mentally kicking himself for possibly offending Dean, Castiel turned his gaze towards the two humans.  Rufus was attentively turning the skewered rabbit carcass, while Claire watched him work with her chin resting on her palm. The early morning would have been eerily quiet if not for the crackling of the fire and a few birds that had woken up early singing their tunes.  No one in the group were speaking to each other now that Dean and Castiel had fallen silent; the dragons stood like shining statues in the morning sun, barely even moving, and the humans in their charge were quiet and unusually still as well.

Castiel’s bladder felt as if it were on the edge of bursting, and he looked around and spotted a small thicket, just a few trees with some concealing underbrush, not far beyond the circle of dragons.  No one was paying him any attention, so Castiel started towards it.

Dean chittered at him again, this time a bit more urgently than before, and Castiel glanced at him but continued walking.  “I’ll be right back.” He told the dragon. His words seemed enough to assure Dean and the rest of the dragons that he wasn’t running off or trying to back out of his marriage agreement.  But despite his assurances and the relatively short distance between the thicket of trees and the dragons’ camp, he could feel several pairs of eyes following him as he disappeared between the trees.

The vegetation here was different than those of his home.  Castiel tried to identify a tree as he relieved himself beside it.  He’d read a book about different trees not so long ago and tried his best to remember, but didn’t recognize its leaves.

The sound of someone making their way through the underbrush towards him had Castiel quickly making himself decent.  As Claire came into view, he narrowed his eyes and frowned at the young human.

“There you are.”  She said with obvious relief when she spotted him still fumbling with the front of his pants with his back facing her.  “What are you doing wandering away?”

“We’ve been flying all day and night.”  Castiel said, his cheeks warming a bit as he finished with his pants and turned towards her.  “I had to go.” Claire looked at him like she hadn’t the foggiest idea what he was talking about.

“Go where?”  She asked, glancing around the trees as if this were some special space and not just a private place to pee.

“Um, y’know.”  Castiel gestured at the trees around him trailed off.  Maybe humans called it something else, but there was no way he was explaining that he’d been urinating to a girl.  He stayed silent until Claire gave up on waiting for an answer.

“Well, you shouldn’t go off by yourself.”  She finally said, motioning for him to follow her back to camp.

“I’m not going in front of everyone.”  He protested, bristling at her insinuation that he couldn’t care for himself for even a short while.  He followed her despite her condescending words, and noticed she didn’t walk  _ around _ the different bushes and things as much as she walked straight  _ through  _ them.  Only the largest of trees were avoided by the human girl.

“It’s not safe here.”  She said as they cleared the tree line.  Dean had left the circle of dragons to wait for Castiel by the trees, and his moans as he spoke to Claire drowned out Castiel’s question of ‘why isn’t it safe?’

“I don’t know, dude.  He said he had to go.”  Claire said to Dean, and Castiel felt his cheeks heat up again as Dean turned one green eye towards him to eye him critically.

“Claire!”  Castiel hissed, elbowing her slightly as Dean started speaking to Claire again.  And great fallen  _ feathers _ , was Claire ever sturdier than she looked.  Castiel grasped his elbow and scrunched up his face as pain laced up his arm.  His elbow twinged and smarted where he’d tapped her ribs, while she appeared to have barely felt it.  Maybe humans were tougher than Castiel thought?

“That’s what I said!”  Claire told Dean before the dragon had finished speaking, then she turned to Castiel as she came to a stop beside the campfire.  “Dean wants to know where you needed to go.”

Castiel stopped short and stuttered for a moment.  There was  _ no way _ he was explaining this in front of everyone.  Telling Claire would have been bad enough, but now he had the full attention of both humans and all five dragons.

“Never mind.”  Castiel said, feeling about one inch tall with all these dragons looking down on him.  “I didn’t need to go anywhere.” He got some raised scaly eyebrows, but the topic was blessedly dropped.  Castiel sighed and shivered again.

It was freezing on the mainland, Castiel had never felt such a lack of warmth before.  It was in the middle of  _ summer _ , for pete’s sake, no way should anywhere be so cold in at this time of year.  Even the  _ winter _ nights were warm and balmy on Castiel’s island.

“I need to get into my trunk.”  Castiel told Dean. He’d packed some of his winter clothes in there for later in their journey.  He hadn’t thought he’d need them until they’d be able to at least  _ see _ the Northern mountains, but he was too uncomfortable to wait.  His muscles were beginning to ache from shivering so much.

Dean growled and clicked at Benny, who immediately got to his feet and walked a short distance away, leaving Castiel’s chest of belongings where the angel could get into it.  Castiel walked towards it quickly, half turning in surprise when he realized that Dean was following right on his heels.

The angel shot a surprised look over his shoulder and frowned, his expression either not registering to Dean as discomfort or just something the dragon prince chose to ignore.  Castiel resisted the urge to tell Dean to give him some space as he leaned down and opened his trunk with Dean’s warm breath fogging the air around him, but it was a close thing.

Castiel reminded himself that dragons probably had different standards on politeness.  In draconic culture, maybe personal belongings weren’t a private thing, or maybe dragons didn’t  _ have  _ things they considered their own.  Dragons certainly didn’t wear clothes, so Dean might simply not know that Castiel’s trunk, filled mostly with clothes, was something he didn’t want Dean sticking his scaly nose into.  Or maybe there were no secrets between mates for dragons, Castiel certainly knew that his own parents were upfront and honest with each other, maybe that’s all Dean wanted.

_ He might not even realize he’s being rude. _  Castiel told himself.  He forced himself to smile as he looked over his shoulder at Dean.  The corners of the dragon’s eyes crinkled when he caught Castiel’s gaze, and Dean spoke to him in short, quick groans.

“He said he’s curious about your box.”  Claire said in a bored tone, once again sitting on her haunches beside the fire.  Castiel took a deep breath, trying to push his slight annoyance at Dean’s nosiness aside so he could be polite to his soon-to-be husband.

“It’s not a box.”  Castiel explained. “It’s my trunk.  It holds all my things that I might need until I can get into my moving boxes.”  Castiel opened his trunk as wide as it could go and Dean lifted his head so that it was hanging above Castiel’s and he could see inside.  At the top were two wrapped presents, and Castiel smiled as he lifted one, remembering that Anna said that she and their mother had each left him a present.

Anna’s was wrapped in bright red paper, while his mother’s gift was in a plain box with a small bow made of green satin.  Dean made a light trilling sound that sounded like curiosity as Castiel examined them.

“They’re gifts from my family.”  Castiel explained, then placed them in the special netting in the lid of his trunk while he rooted around for his winter clothes.  He’d packed his pants, sweater, and jacket at the top, since he’d known he’d be needing it, but he also pulled out a thicker pair of socks and fresh underwear.  He sat on his feet with his clothes draped over the top of his trunk and looked around.

Dean made the trilling sound again, and when Castiel looked up at him, the dragon ruffled his wings, his massive head tilted to one side so he could look at Castiel with one slitted green eye.

“I need to change clothes,”  Castiel said, rising to his feet.  “I’ll be in those trees, but don’t send Claire in looking for me, I’ll be right back.”  Dean made a moaning sound, one that sounded very disapproving of Castiel’s plan.

“He wants to know why you like those trees so much.”  Claire called before Castiel could cross the camp, and Castiel didn’t even glance at her when he responded to Dean.

“It’s not that I like the trees,” he explained, wondering if  _ privacy _ would register to Dean when the dragon was clearly naked in front of his friends and family without so much as a batted eyelid.  “I just need to go there for some privacy.”

“I can help.”  Claire translated for Dean, and before Castiel ask how Dean could possibly help, Dean moved and crouched down so that Castiel and his trunk were alongside Dean’s belly.  Castiel had no clue what Dean was trying to accomplish until the dragon unfolded one burgundy wing and held it over Castiel. The tips and far edge of Dean’s wing settled on the ground, and the middle was held high over his head like a tent.

It was dark red inside Dean’s wing, and after gaping for a few moments, Castiel laughed softly at the situation.  Never in his life would he have thought he’d be standing in a tent made by the wing of a living dragon, future husband or not.

It worked well, though, and Castiel waited only a few extra moments, making sure Dean wasn’t about to stick his head inside and watch, before stripping down and putting on his winter clothes.  He packed his dirty traveling clothes in a special cloth bag, and fiddled with the wrapping of Anna’s present.

He’d like to open his gifts in private, and he wasn’t sure when he’d get such a luxury again, so now seemed like as good a time as any.  He ripped the paper off Anna’s gift carefully, and had to hold back tears when he beheld his sister’s gift.

She’d painted their island for him.  Anna had always been something of an artist, but Castiel could tell she’d spent an extremely long time on his gift.  Every detail was perfect; he could see the southern docks and the fishing boats tied up along the pier, he could see the cliffs where Castiel had first met Dean and the rest of the dragons.  He could see the stone stadium where he and his siblings and friends had learned magic, and the black-charred marks on the stones from when spells went wrong. Their father’s house and surrounding town looked real, it was as if Castiel were flying above his homeland and looking down.  He half expected to hear the beating of the ocean and the calling of seagulls as he looked upon the little canvas.

Castiel wiped away a few tears as he carefully wrapped Anna’s painting in its wrappings and put it back in his trunk.  He reached for his mother’s gift next, and was quick to tug off the ribbon and pull off the lid.

Inside the box was a satiny bag and a folded-up note.  Castiel sat the box aside and read in his mother’s writing;

 

_ My Dearest Castiel, _

_ I couldn’t send you off to your life as a dragonsbride without this.  I know you’ve gotten through your heats just fine in the past, but I hope that this will help you through them in the future. _

_ I never wanted this marriage for you, though I hope you can find happiness in it all the same. _

_ You have my love always, my dearest babe _

_ Mother _

 

Castiel had to re-read his mother’s letter several times before he’d plucked up the courage to look inside the bag.  He had no idea what she could have gotten him to help with his heats, and only noticed there was something hard inside as he opened the drawstring with shaking fingers.

He checked over his shoulder again to make sure Dean hadn’t stuck his head inside his wing.  Once Castiel was sure he was truly alone, he reached in and pulled out his mother’s gift.

Castiel took one wide-eyed look at it and quickly shoved it back into its bag.  He stuffed the bag back into the box and stored it in the very bottom of his trunk.  Castiel closed the lid of his trunk with a  _ snap _ and sat on the lid, staring wide-eyed at the red-tinged ground in front of him with his mother’s note clenched in his palm.

He’d never been so embarrassed by a gift in his life.  His mother had never been one for jokes, but he had a difficult time trying to convince himself that his mother’s gift was a serious present.

Yet the more he thought about it, the more he realized his mother’s heart was in the right place.  It was something he’d thought about once, after Gabriel had teased him about children. He knew that by marrying a dragon, he’d be spending all of his heats alone.  He’d been fine with that when he was younger, but in the past few months his heats had been growing steadily worse, and he’d found himself wanting to spend them in the arms of someone.

Still, he hadn’t expected his mother to send a wooden  _ dick _ along with him, especially one so large.  Were alphas really so big in the pants? And were their knots supposed to be so hard, or was that because the whole thing was made from solid, carefully smoothed-out wood?

Castiel leaned forward and held his face in his hands.  He felt as if he were about to die of shame. He’d never used anything like his mother’s gift.  He’d only used his fingers a few times, in the very worst stages of his most intense heats. He wasn’t even sure that thing could fit inside him.

And he didn’t know if his slick would be enough to keep the wooden toy from hurting him, or if he would need to use an extra lubricant.  Gabriel had told him once that he’d heard that betas could use olive oil in place of slick, since they didn’t naturally produce it on their own.  He wondered if he could ask Anna or Gabriel about that in a letter, or if the dragons even had olive oils in the North. The teasing would be relentless, but maybe they’d send him some without telling anyone who would listen.

“Castiel, your food is ready.”  The angel heard Rufus say, and Castiel quickly stood as Dean let out another musical flutter of curiousness.

“I’m ready!”  Castiel called out, his face still burning as he shoved his mother’s note into his pants pocket.  The cold air rushed over him like a wave from the ocean as Dean lifted his wing, and Castiel was left standing with his hand raised to his eyes, blinking against the blinding sunlight.

“Here.”  Claire said, and Castiel took the cooked rabbit she pushed into his hands with a frown.

“Aren’t you and Rufus going to eat any?”  Castiel asked her, turning the spit in his hand and seeing that the meat didn’t have any servings trimmed away.  “Surely the two of you must be hungry.” Humans and angels weren’t so different, after all. Castiel could have  _ sworn _ that humans liked to eat three times a day, just like angels.

“We aren’t hungry.”  Claire assured him. “And we need to get on the move.  You can eat in Dean’s hand.”

Castiel bit back a groan as he watched Rufus scoop dirt on the fire to put it out.  He was so cold and he didn’t even get to sit beside the flames for a while and warm up.  Beside him, Dean started clicking and grunting.

“Dean says not to look so down.  We’ll reach the Southern mountains this evening, and he’ll catch us something bigger so you can see his skill as a hunter.”  Claire said just before she climbed into Jody’s hand. Samuel was already in the sky, circling lowly and waiting for everyone else to join him.

Castiel took his odd breakfast and crawled into Dean’s waiting hand without complaint.  Maybe he’ll at least get to see some snow in the Southern mountains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be on January 25. Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update is so late in the day. I had clinicals today and it lasted a l l day.

It was just after mid morning that Castiel decided he hated everything about traveling.  He was cold even with his jacket and winter clothes, and there was barely any room to move around in Dean’s hand, which left him feeling an odd combination of exhausted and restless.  His breakfast also served as his lunch, since the dragons didn’t seem to believe in taking breaks, and once the meat had cooled it turned tough and was mostly tasteless, like eating a thick pair of leather gloves.  Castiel had only taken a handful of bites for breakfast, and ate even less for lunch. The unusual preparation made the meat disagree with his stomach, which was already tender from the rocking motion of a dragon in flight.

Castiel also hadn’t slept well during the night and his eyes burned.  He’d nearly drained his waterskin in an effort to quench his parched throat, and he’d desperately needed  _ something _ to help wash down the tasteless rabbit meat.  He hadn’t touched the smaller wineskin his mother packed for him, he already had a headache and knew the alcohol would only make it worse.  He nibbled on the snacks in his pack, but the flaky breads only worsened his dry mouth and throat, so he resigned himself to being hungry and thirsty.

To top off everything else, he was sure that the constant howling of the wind between Dean’s fingers was slowly driving him mad.

His churning stomach, aching head, cramped and cold muscles, dry eyes, and cracked lips put him in a spectacularly foul mood.  The fact that he was completely and utterly bored only sent his mood further into its downward spiral.

He didn’t even really consider going flying again today, though the activity was one of his favorite pastimes and just about the only thing he could do to entertain himself while en route to the dragons’ homeland.  It was much too cold to spread his wings and meet the frigid air head on. Instead, he curled up in Dean’s palm and kept the exposed skin on his face, neck, and hands covered as best he could.

Possibly the worst part of traveling was that it just left too much time to  _ think _ .  Castiel’s mind buzzed as he thought about the implications of his mother’s gift and the note she’d written him.  She said she had never wanted this marriage for him. Initially he thought she was just talking about him being alone during his heats, but eventually he came to realize he’d be missing out on  _ everything. _

Dean was nice, and Castiel hoped to learn his language so they could have conversations without an interpreter.  They’d grown close during their time as penpals, and while things were a little awkward in person, Castiel was sure that they were both just nervous and would warm up to each other soon.

But for as nice as Dean was, as skillful a hunter and accomplished a warrior and as patient as he was for being willing to put up with Castiel’s ways that must seem odd to him, he was simply too big.  Castiel would never know what it was like to spend a heat with his mate, yes, but that missed opportunity paled in comparison to the rest of the experiences he’d be missing out on. 

Castiel would never get to hug his mate and be hugged in return.  He would never get to experience kissing. He’d never hold hands with Dean, or cuddle.  Dean would never stroke Castiel’s face or gently wipe away the tears he’d cried. He’d never lie in bed in the arms of his mate, or feel his mate’s warm breath tickle the back of his neck while they slept.  Castiel would have Dean, but they were too different for any form of intimacy. Castiel would never even wear a mating bite, he’d never truly be bound in the most basic form, because if a beast as large as Dean so much as  _ nipped _ him in the neck, he’d surely gravely harm the small angel.

His mind turned to other things, how Michael had practiced magic with his mate, or how Lucifer liked to sing with his fiance.  How Gabriel used to tease Castiel about future children. Castiel would never have any, he’d never know the joy of watching his child take his first steps, or hear his first words.  He’d never hold his newborn in his arms and rock his baby to sleep. Castiel would live with Dean for many, many years, but it would never be more than just the two of them.

He cried off and on throughout the day.  Both for his lost family and lost future he hadn’t known his father had taken away from him by agreeing to a marriage between angel and dragon.  He was angry at his father for it, he was angry at Dean’s father for it, and he was so,  _ so  _ angry that he hadn’t been asked his opinion before being thrust into the arrangement.

He liked Dean, but he wasn’t sure if he would have wanted to have ever known him if he could have just had a normal marriage.

He tried not to let himself resent Dean for it; he knew the dragon prince had also been forced into this, would also be missing out on a myriad of dragon experiences that Castiel couldn’t offer him because of his small size.  Dean had been nothing but polite and curious, and had been steadfast in his attempts to build a foundation of friendship with Castiel during their time as penpals. If anything, Castiel was sure to have a kindred spirit in Dean.  They were both giving up so much for their kingdoms by putting on a brave face and doing this.

Castiel just wished the trip would be over so he wouldn’t have to dwell on these thoughts anymore.  Life as a full-time ambassador would be better than lying in a cramped dragon’s palm thinking of all the beautiful, wonderful things he was going to miss out on in his life.

He slept all too often, figuring it was one of the only ways to make the trip go faster.  His vivid dreams were plagued by nightmares, one of the recurring ones being him in his family’s castle.  He would run from room to room, floor to endless floor, searching for his family. The dream would always end the same; he’d realize that he was all alone, and he’d wake up with a start and in a cold sweat.

He never seemed to sleep for very long, despite his tossing and turning the night before and the increasing heaviness of his eyelids, and the day passed by with all the speed of a drying out snail.  It was only Dean’s promise that the group would actually stop and make camp tonight that kept him from being completely miserable.

Sleep had steadfastly been eluding him for several hours when a deep chirruping noise had Castiel crawling to look out from between Dean’s fingers at the world outside.  The sun was getting low in the sky, though there was likely still an hour or so before it set. The dragons were circling now; Castiel could see Bobby, Jody, Benny, and Samuel below him and Dean, all flying lower and lower as the searched for a suitable place to land for the night.

But none of that was the reason for the young angel to drop his jaw in amazement.  The land they were descending upon had mountains! While Castiel had been surprised and impressed with mainland overall, with its patchwork fields and the sheer size of all of it, it was nothing compared to how he felt about seeing mountains for the first time.

Jagged rock faces sprouted out from the ground, some hundreds of feet high or standing at impossible angles.  Trees sprouted from the sides of sheer cliffs, clouds snaked their way between the bodies of the earthen giants, even the dragons of Dean’s party were dwarfed by their size.  The mountains rose to such heights that Castiel couldn’t see their ends because Dean’s bulk and outstretched wing blocked them from his sight. Castiel kept up an endless stream of exclamations as Dean glided between the incredible formations of earth and stone.

The angel refused to hide from the frigid air that hit his face and ruffled his feathers.  The wind might leave his face and hands numb, and it could pull water from his eyes all it wanted, Castiel wasn’t about to look away from such spectacular sights.

Dean’s silent gliding brought them over a valley filled with dark green cone-shaped trees. They were quite different from the tall coconut trees and swaying palms of Castiel’s homeland, and the young angel decided at once that he absolutely  _ must _ climb one before they set out again.

Deep, heavy beats made Castiel’s ears ache as Dean flapped his wings hard to slow them down so he could land.  Castiel scrambled away from the edge of Dean’s palm so he wouldn’t tumble out upon touchdown (he’d seen the way dragons landed and had yet to fail to seem a jarring thing).  Even with Dean being careful and Castiel bracing himself, the angel tumbled forward and smacked his shoulder and wing against Dean’s palm as they hit the ground with a crash.

He didn’t waste any time nursing his aches, though.  As soon as he was sure that Dean was firmly on the ground and that Castiel wouldn’t get crushed by a dragon landing nearby, he grabbed his backpack and scrambled out of Dean’s palm to look towards the heavens.

“Woah!”  Castiel exclaimed, his earlier foul mood forgotten for a moment as he looked  _ up _ at the  _ ground _ .  He turned on the spot to look at a second and third peak, a broad smile on his face.  The mountains were impossibly high, surely their tips must lead to heaven’s gates, if not rise above heaven’s clouds as a mountain up there as well as on Earth.

Dean moaned something out in his clicky language, and Claire was quick to step forward to translate.

“What do you think, Castiel?”  Claire said, and Castiel laughed out loud at the absurdity of such a question when faced with such a place.

“What do I think?”  He said, spinning around with his arms held wide.  “Just  _ look  _ at this place, look at that!”  He pointed at a bluff on the far side of the valley, one that Claire and Dean both seemed to find underwhelming, but that Castiel thought was fantastic.  They were both watching him raptly, as if his excitement were endlessly entertaining.

“These things blot out the sky, they hide the sun though it has yet to set!  It’s as if someone pulled a thousand islands from the sea and stacked them atop each other!  I’ve never seen anything so massive.” He turned back to Dean and Claire, smiling and unconcerned by the soft looks they were giving him.

“I’ve read about mountains, but I just  _ couldn’t _ picture something so big, but really, I wasn’t thinking big enough.”  Castiel said, turning this way and that, focusing on a tree, then on a patch of wildflowers that looked nothing like the ones on Castiel’s island.  The flora couldn’t distract him from the mountains for long, though.

“It’s like we flew to a whole different planet!”  Castiel continued, turning his attention even higher up the mountainsides.  There was a line, very high up but at the same level on each mountain, where the line of trees growing up there just  _ stopped _ , leaving a bald cap surrounded by green.  Above the line there was only white, almost like a cloud despite its odd shape and solid-looking disposition.  The white caps were subtly shimmering in the fading light.

“Dean, what is that shining atop the mountains?”  Castiel asked, pointing almost straight up at the nearest peak.  He waited, still pointing and squinting his eyes in case the shimmering was a trick of the light or distance, while Dean turned his long neck around to look to see what Castiel was asking about.

Dean  _ huc-huc-huck _ ed as he turned his head back around, and spoke in a deep rumble that Claire translated.

“It’s snow.  The air up there is so cold that the snow rarely ever melts.  And it’s so cold up there that the trees won’t grow, that’s why they wrap around the mountain’s neck in a line like that.  When I was very young, my little sister and I tried to reach the tops of these mountains. We didn’t even pick the highest peak, but we couldn’t get up there because our lungs lost the ability to breathe.  Mother and Father were furious at me for leading her up there.” 

Castiel realized that this was the most Dean had said at once to him.  The angel wondered if Dean realized that as well when he ducked his head slightly as if embarrassed by oversharing.  

Castiel loved it, though, he desperately wanted to know anything he could about his soon-to-be husband and mate.  He had decided earlier in the evening that if he couldn’t have physical intimacy, then he wanted to be mentally close to Dean, he craved the dragon’s affection in whatever form he could get it.

He didn’t have the faintest idea how to flirt, he’d never tried it before.  But Castiel had seen Gabriel flirt with angels almost constantly, all he had to do was act like Gabriel.  As horrifying a prospect as that was, Castiel was determined to try.

“So that’s what snow looks like.”  Castiel said, taking a few steps forward to stand closer to Dean.  “We can’t go up there?” He asked, and Dean shook his massive head before answering.

“Not in these tall mountains, but you’ll see plenty of snow when we reach my homeland.  The snow never melts there, either.” Castiel had almost forgotten Claire was there translating for them, odd as that was, until she narrowed her eyes at Dean and turned towards him.

“The snow  _ does _ melt.”  She said, speaking for herself for once and not as a translator or diplomat.  “They have a few warm months near the Southern caves, they grow flowers and vegetables there.”

Castiel had to bite back a laugh that nearly forced its way from his throat at the sight of a dragon rolling his eyes.  Dean clicked back sharply at the human girl and she shook her head and scoffed at him.

“What did he say?”  Castiel asked when Claire failed to translate.

“He said ‘you know what I meant.’”  She said, and Castiel shyly smiled up at his betrothed.  

“What did you mean, Dean?”  He asked, taking a few more tentative steps closer to the dragon’s forefoot.  Dean eyed the angel’s movement closely, his expression unreadable, as he answered.

“I meant that most of the year, the Northern mountains are covered in snow.  We still have seasons, but the snow never completely melts away, especially when it builds up into drifts.”

“I see.”  Castiel said, now standing close enough to Dean that the angel could reach out and touch some of the scales on the parts of his neck that were low enough.  Several deep  _ thuds _ distracted him, and all three of them turned their heads in time to see Jody and Bobby taking off from the campsite.

“Where are they going?”  Castiel asked, and it was Claire who answered, without needing Dean to tell her what to say.

“They’re going hunting.”  She said, and Castiel frowned slightly as he looked up at Dean.

“I thought you wanted to show me your skills, Dean.”  Castiel said, and he saw Dean’s massive chest heave a sigh that sent smoke billowing out of Dean’s nose.

“I wanted to, but Samuel said I shouldn’t go off alone, and that I needed to stay with you.”  The maroon dragon perked his head up. “Not that I mind staying here with you, I just wanted for you to see that I’m a worthy mate.”

“By catching dinner for everyone?”  Castiel asked, and Dean nodded his massive head.  Castiel smiled fondly at the dragon before biting his lip and drawing in on himself again.  “Um, Dean? May I ask a personal favor of you?”

If Dean was surprised by Castiel's vague request, he only showed it by a small puff of dark smoke that he coughed out.  “Of course, Castiel. I am at your disposal.” Castiel took a deep breath to steady himself and steel his nerves. He didn’t know what he would do if Dean rejected him in this.  As small a thing it was, it meant a lot that Castiel have  _ something _ from Dean.

He’d had soft touches all his life.  Angels were flocking creatures; they loved to cuddle and play and hold each other close with their wings.  Dragons seemed the opposite. The most he’d seen two dragons touch was when Dean and Benny slapped each other with their tails during Dean’s recounting of his battle with the Were.

“Your hands don’t have any large scales and I’m terribly curious as to what the bigger ones feel like.  Can I touch you?” It was a lie and Castiel knew it, he didn’t truly care one way or another what the scales that were the size of dinner plates felt like, he just wanted to cross a barrier with Dean.  

He and Dean would never hug, kiss, or spend a heat or rut in each other’s arms, but they could have this.  Castiel was determined that he could still be close to his future husband and mate.

Dean held out a hand, inviting Castiel to feel his scales where the small scales on his hands gave way to larger ones at the dragon’s equivalent of a wrist.  Castiel had been hoping for something a bit more personal than a wrist, but he walked forward eagerly and ran his fingers over Dean’s scales.

The ones on Dean’s wrist were about the size of a dinner roll, if someone took a dinner roll and smashed it flat.  They were smooth and warm, and didn’t have any give at all when Castiel pushed against them. He took a few moments to settle his curiosity before backing away.  He felt himself start to blush as he realized Dean and Claire’s eyes were watching him closely, but he didn’t let their confused looks dissuade him.

“Can I feel the scales on your nose?”  He asked, tripping over his words just a little.  Dean was perfectly still for several moments before slowly lowering his head to Castiel’s level without a word.

The huge eye that was facing Castiel watched him with an unmatched focus as Castiel slowly walked towards the huge beast.  Dean’s head was easily as big as Castiel’s four-poster bed back on his island, and at least twice as long. The exposed parts of his fangs were as long as Castiel’s forearm and quite a bit thicker, they came down to a wicked-looking point, and Castiel was  _ very  _ thankful that the war between dragons and angels lie well over a hundred years in the past.  He would hate to see any of his brothers or sisters have to go to war with a beast as magnificent, terrifying, and  _ huge _ as Dean.

Castiel’s hand was shaking slightly as he reached out to rest his palm on Dean’s cheekbone.  His gentle touch didn’t relax Dean at all, who kept his hard gaze on Castiel just as thoroughly as before, and Castiel wondered if it was unusual for a dragon to be touched by his or her future mate.

Still, Castiel wanted this.  Even if Dean’s head was too big for the angel to wrap his arms or his wings around, he could still touch him.  Dean would say something if he didn’t want this or didn’t like it, and the dragon was staying steadfastly silent.  Castiel worked his way towards Dean’s nose, and the dragon huffed a nervous breath as soon as Castiel entered his blind spot.  Dean held absolutely still while Castiel ran his hands over the small scales on the tip of his snout, but the angel soon found that Dean’s nervousness was contagious and walked back to where Dean could see him.

“Thank you, Dean.”  Castiel said, looking up into Dean’s eye.  The bright green orb was a bit smaller than a wagon wheel, with a long slit running up and down the center like a cat’s eye.  Castiel leaned his forehead against a ridge on his betrothed’s cheek, and ran his fingers over the scales one more time before stepping back.  

Castiel noticed that Dean hadn’t blinked or taken his eye off of him the entire time, and he jerked his head out of Castiel’s reach as soon as the angel took a step back.  Castiel tried not to take Dean’s slight personally. But try as he might, Dean’s distrust felt like a slap in the face.

“Well, that was interesting.”  Dean said through Claire, and the dragon coughed a few times, looking over his shoulder at the other amassed dragons self-consciously as they started growling and clicking as they spoke to each other.  Castiel couldn’t understand their tone and Claire didn’t translate, but he felt as if they were talking about him.

Castiel felt his heart ache as he watched his soon-to-be husband’s obvious discomfort at his touch.  He tried not to take it as anything more than slight embarrassment on Dean’s part, but how could he not be affected when he and Dean wanted such different things?

“I’m sorry, Dean.  I won’t do it again.”  Castiel said to his feet.  Suddenly his long day was crashing back down on him again, and he felt his eyes growing wet at the rejection, however small, from his destined mate.  He felt as if Dean’s discomfort put a final nail into the coffin of Castiel’s fate; he would forever feel alone amongst the dragons, even around his own husband.

Castiel looked around himself and spotted his trunk.  “Excuse me.” He said softly, walking away from Dean and Claire quickly.  He made a beeline for his trunk, quickly unlocking it and rooting aimlessly through his folded clothes, simply for something to do with his hands.

The angel didn’t look up as he both heard and felt Dean approach, but he did sneakily wipe the tears off his cheeks while pretending to sniff a shirt that he knew was clean.

Dean made a long, deep, humming noise, “I have offended you.”

Castiel swallowed hard and shook his head.  “Don’t worry, Dean. You didn’t do anything wrong.  I’m sorry I asked to touch you. Like I said, I’ll refrain in the future.”

“I don’t understand, why are you apologizing?”

Castiel took a deep breath and, still speaking to the contents of his trunk because he was sure he’d burst into tears if he turned around and saw proof of Dean’s rejection in the dragon’s eyes, said “I made you uncomfortable.”  He swallowed harshly against a lump in his throat. “Angels are fond of touching each other, it’s how we share our affections. I just wanted to be close to you.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”  Dean said, lowering his head so that his jaw was on the ground in front of Castiel and the side of Dean’s face was all the angel could see besides his own trunk.  “I didn’t know what you were going to do. I’m sorry if I have offended you.”

Castiel nodded, desperately fighting back tears now.  “It’s fine, Dean. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.”  Dean said quickly, rustling his wings.  “You can touch me again if you want.”

Castiel went willingly and as soon as Dean had given him permission, nearly tripping over his open trunk in his hurry.  It felt odd to feel scales under his forehead as he hid his tears from Dean’s eye by pressing his face against the dragon’s cheek, but he rubbed his face against Dean’s scales anyway.  He still couldn’t wrap Dean into a hug or be hugged back, but he lifted his wings to Dean’s face and pressed his feathers against him, and ran his fingers along the bumpy smoothness of his cheekbone.

Castiel gasped as he felt something warm gently pressing into his back.  He turned his head slightly and could hardly help the fresh wave of tears that began sliding down his cheeks.  Just as Castiel had his wings raised to Dean’s face to hold him in a quasi-hug, Dean had his wing unfolded and raised to Castiel’s back, pressing him into Dean’s cheek in a gentle hold.

They were hugging, Castiel realized with a start.  For the first time, he felt like maybe they really could do this.

“I like this.”  Castiel whispered, hoping that Claire wouldn’t hear but that Dean could.  Dean hummed his confirmation low in his chest, the sound reverberating through him and vibrating against Castiel’s forehead where he was still hiding his tears.

“Actually, I  _ love _ this.”  Castiel said, letting his hands wander between bumpy scales and soft feathers.  He stroked Dean’s cheekbone, pressing tiny, barely-there kisses to the small scales on the side of Dean’s face.

“That feels good.”  Dean said, his groaning speech almost breathy.  He leaned into Castiel’s touch slightly, making the angel take a step back to avoid being knocked over.  “Dragons are not so gentle. I like the way you touch me.”

“Hey, if you two are going to be gross, you’re on your own!”  Claire said loudly, audibly gagging at the last line Dean had said.  Dean raised his head a few feet and clicked sharply at Claire, but the human girl shook her head sharply.

“No way, translating your bedroom talk is  _ not _ in my job description!  And your mother wouldn’t approve of your behavior, nor mine for you making me listen to it and repeat it.”  Claire stuck her fingers in her ears as Dean moaned out something else.

“What did he say?”  Castiel asked, quickly drying his cheeks and stepping away from Dean’s face so that he and Dean were a proper distance apart.  They couldn’t lose their interpreter right now, Castiel couldn’t even begin to understand Dean’s language. He smiled slightly when he realized that both angel and dragon folded their wings at the exact same time.

“He said you two weren’t being gross, but you  _ really were _ , and then he called me a rude name that your language doesn’t have a word for.”  Claire said, scowling at Dean.

Castiel smiled as Dean said something else that prompted Claire and the dragon to exchange sarcastic head wobbles.  Claire even stuck out her tongue at the dragon, and Dean mirrored the action with his long, forked tongue. Castiel chose his next words carefully to avoid offending either dragon or human.

“You two get along differently than I would have expected.”  He said, and he thought he saw Dean brighten up a bit.

“I’m great with kids, I-.  Hey! I am not a kid!” Claire protested, and Castiel’s head was swimming trying to keep up with who Claire was speaking for after such a long day.

“What did he say?”  Castiel asked again after Dean said something that sounded very much like the draconic equivalent of  _ mleh mleh mleh _ .

“He’s mimicking me.”  Claire said, and began arguing outright with the dragon.

Castiel laughed softly and shook his head at their antics.  He had no idea where the human girl got the guts to sass a dragon, but he liked her for it and liked Dean even more for putting up with it with such good-natured grace.

He turned away from their squabble to take in the colors and unique personalities of the mountains around them.  He felt like he was about to burst with all the conflicting emotions inside his chest, but the sights around him were calming in a way his island had never really been.  Everything here was so intensely beautiful. He felt he could live here for years and never tire of the world around him. His eyes stopped short when he saw a patch of fluttering black clothes and he squinted, sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him.  

But no, there were  _ people _ out here, a whole group of them.  They were sitting atop fierce-looking doglike beasts that stood almost as tall as a horse, holding spears and sharp swords and watching Castiel, Dean, and Claire closely from under their dark hooded cloaks.

“Hey!”  Castiel called out loudly, and Dean cut himself off mid-sentence to pay attention to him.  “Who are they?” Castiel asked, turning and pointing at the group of humans and their strange looking steeds.

As soon as he’d turned, Castiel saw that a few of the dark-clothed humans were much closer than the rest.  They sat atop their steeds not thirty feet from Castiel, just beyond a dark line of trees. As soon as Castiel saw them, the riders and beasts charged out of their hiding spot towards him with loud  _ whoops _ and wordless war cries.  Castiel didn’t even have time to gasp before they were a mere wing-length away.

A rip like a tree being felled sounded out from just behind Castiel, and he realized it was Dean growling a moment later.  Dean threw himself over Castiel, and the young angel dropped to the ground in fear of being crushed, but Dean landed just  _ so _ , and Castiel was laid out beside Dean’s tail by the time he stilled.

Castiel sat up quickly, and looked around in time to see one of the doglike beasts with its dark cloaked rider darting around Dean’s shoulder, still charging towards the group’s weakest member with a speed that didn’t make any sense to Castiel.  Nothing should be able to move so fast. Castiel scrambled back, his eyes wide and unable to look away at his doom that was descending upon him. He saw his soon-to-be husband fighting out of the corner of his eye, and watched wide-eyed as Dean whipped his head around and closed his jaw around the rider and steed alike.

A faint red light grew in Dean’s mouth, and Castiel scrambled back in the dirt as fire poured out of the dragon’s mouth.  The dog-beast squealed terribly, it kicked and fought for its life against the teeth that dug into its flesh, but even for its large size, it could do nothing to escape the jaws of a dragon.

Castiel didn’t have time to relax, though, because the rider’s form seemed to waver and fall flat, falling away from Dean’s jaws easily just before Dean’s fire breath lit it ablaze.  It fell to the ground and flattened, turning into a mere shadow as it moved across the ground. Castiel got to his feet and ran towards the safety of the cooking fire, taking only two or three steps before something sharp pierced his boot and had him stumbling to the ground with a choked cry.

The shadow sprung into a three-dimensional being again, and crawled onto Castiel’s lap and held him down by his wrist with a strength that the angel was powerless against.  Two more shadows sprung from the ground nearby and jumped atop his chest as well, gathering him in their arms and screeching in victory as they started to drag him into the trees.  

Castiel reached for his magic, and with a single clench of his fist and a word from his lips he sent out a wave of intangible force.  The three black-cloaked shadow monsters were thrown off of him and he scrambled to his feet. In the split second before Castiel started running again, he got a good glimpse of his soon-to-be husband in combat.

Dean was close by, he was fighting against oversize dogs and shadow monsters as more of their fellows emerged from the trees.  Great plumes of fire burst from Dean's jaws, catching dark cloaks with fire and singeing fur as his teeth and claws ripped apart flesh.  He watched with wide eyes as a shadow monster was engulfed by fire from Dean’s mouth, and the thing howled as it withered and died. Though Dean was a warrior and a skilled one at that, he was outnumbered nearly thirty to one, and the doglike steeds were climbing atop his back and snapping at his neck and wings.  Great rivulets of dark blue blood ran down his scales and stained the grass of the clearing.

As much as Castiel wanted to help Dean, and despite the private lessons his mother had insisted he take, Castiel wasn't technically a warrior.  Omega angels weren’t taught to fight, and he’d only learned the simplest of spells for personal protection. He turned away with his heart filled with regret and fear, hoping against hope that these strange shadow monsters and their evil steeds wouldn’t be enough to take down a nearly full grown dragon.  He turned away from Dean and the things that would kill him and started to run, his hurt foot punishing him for his every step.

He needed a few good running steps before he could get into the air.  He searched the campsite as he ran for Benny and Samuel, but Dean was the only dragon in the clearing.  He spotted Claire, also running from the attackers, and as Castiel took to the skies, he raced towards her.

“Claire!”  He shouted, holding out a hand to the human.  Claire looked over her shoulder at Castiel, wide eyed and clearly terrified, and reached for him as well, gripping his wrist tightly when they touched.

Now, Castiel was a fair flyer.  And he may be an omega and thus smaller and not as strong as an alpha angel, but he’d been flying around his island delivering a heavy bag of mail for several years.  He also had several younger siblings, and had always been able to carry them around while he flew.

Claire was nothing like that.  As much as Castiel strained against the air, he couldn’t lift the human girl off the ground, and though Claire was still running, he quickly lost speed and fell.

He hit the ground with an  _ oof _ , barely managing to turn in time to not land directly on his face.  He rolled inelegantly, and didn’t have a moment to note which way was which before Claire had him by the front of his shirt and was dragging him to his feet.  He ran beside her for a few painful paces before he sensed something coming up on them from behind and looked back over his shoulder.

He got a mere half-glimpse at the shadows racing across the ground towards them before he pulled his hand out of Claire’s grasp and pushed her away.  

“Run, Claire!”  He shouted, drawing out his magic again.  He’d seen one of the shadow monsters die in Dean’s fire breath, he knew at least one spell that was almost the same thing.

Angels didn’t often have much use for fire.  They lived on a warm island and were safe in their beds during the cooler nights, and their wings were unfortunately quite susceptible to fire’s destructive abilities.  So while Castiel knew one fire-based spell, he hadn’t spent much time practicing. Still, he felt as if he were on death’s door, and warrior or not, omega or not, he he had to fight.  He could fly away, but he couldn’t just leave Claire to fend for herself.

Castiel faced the deadly shadows head on, twisting his hands and wrists and muttering the incantation as quickly as he could.  There was only a split second between the time he had two flames hovering in each palm and when the shadows on the ground rose up like weird ghosts and attacked.  He shot one in the chest with a burst of fire, and aimed a second fireball at another monster’s face. The thing managed to duck just in time, but the hood of its cloak caught fire, and Castiel was able to make the fire spread across its entire body with a wave of his hands and some intense concentration.

The thing would surely burn, but Castiel didn’t get to see it.  A third shadow rose from the ground and jumped at him before he could react.  Castiel jerked in surprise and felt the magic keeping the fire burning in his palms slip out of his grasp and fade.  The monster above him shrieked in victory and grabbed him by the front of his jacket. It lifted him from the ground and slammed him down, making the young angel see stars behind his eyes as the back of his head connected with something hard.

“Dean!”  Castiel screamed, pushing against the monster and fighting to call his magic back to him.  He could feel himself panicking the longer he struggled against the much stronger creature, his magic just out of reach in his frenzy.

He screamed wordlessly as the thing pulled a wicked-looking dagger from the folds of its clothes, hissing something in a garbled language.  Castiel grabbed its wrist in both his hands, but the thing was stronger than any omega angel, and Castiel knew his struggle would only last a moment or two at most before it would overpower him.

He managed to unfold a wing, and he twisted his torso to hit the thing across the side.  The creature was solid, hitting it was akin to smacking his wing against a tree truck or a brick wall.  He felt a sharp twinge in his wing before pain laced up into his back, and he felt tears filling in his eyes at he looked up at the creature.

His wing hadn’t managed to knock the creature off of him, but it did push its hood away from its face.  A pale white skull had been hidden in the dark fabric. It had wide, unhuman like cheekbones and sharp teeth with bits of rotten flesh clinging to its forehead and jaw.  Four horns sprouted from its crown, they twisted around and dug into the creature’s skull, leaving cracks in the pale white bones. Instead of eyes it had only hollow sockets that were as black as the blackest night.  The creature's head and neck was surrounded by a heavy, swirling gray mist that thrashed against the darkness of the night angrily.

Castiel screamed in fear of such a face and fought against the creature as well as he could.  His screams soon faded into whimpers of desperation as the creature’s knife inched closer to his collarbone.  His entire being fought against the truth that he felt in his heart; he was about to die.

He’d been worried about living a long and lonely life, he’d been angry at his father and the situation he’d put Castiel in, and it was all for naught.  He was going to be killed with his betrothed less than fifty feet away and there was nothing Castiel or Dean could do to stop it, the most Castiel could do was prolong the inevitable.

“Dean!”  Castiel shouted, his voice pitched high in fear and desperation.  He heard an answering roar, but he couldn’t tell if it promised rescue or if Dean were answering Castiel’s desperation with his own.  The shadow creature above Castiel pushed down on him harder, the tip of its blade a mere hair’s breadth away from digging into the angel’s skin.  It’s hollow eyes held no emotions, and Castiel shouted as he continued to reach for his magic to no avail.

Castiel didn’t see him coming, but just before the strength of Castiel’s arms could fail him completely, Rufus let out a harrowing war cry and charged right up to them.  He hit the creature square in the side, tackling it with his body hard enough to send both human and monster tumbling to the side. Castiel gasped in deep lungfuls of air and watched with wide eyes as the creature rose to square off with the human, only to be engulfed in a pillar of flames before it could attack.  Castiel followed the line of fire, expecting to see Dean, but instead seeing a dark blue dragon.

Benny was standing just a few feet from where Castiel was sprawled out on the ground, a thick jet of fire emerging from between his open jaws.  Castiel looked up at Benny for a long moment, too stunned to be able to fully process what was happening. He heard the skull creature screaming as it burned, but he couldn’t seem to look away from Benny until the dragon closed his mouth, cutting off his stream of flames.  The night turned dark again without Benny’s fire, and it was eerily quiet until a high-pitched squeal sounded off to Castiel’s right.

The angel remembered that Dean was in danger, and he turned his head as he scrambled to sit up and help his soon-to-be husband.  He just barely looked up in time to see Dean toss a charred, mangled corpse of one of the creature’s steeds into the trees beyond their campsite.  It flew limp through the air, obviously dead and looking like it was missing a few limbs. After it crashed through the limbs of the trees and settled somewhere beyond Castiel’s sight, everything was calm.  The night was completely and utterly still save for Dean and Castiel’s heaving breaths.

Castiel couldn’t look away from Dean.  He was bleeding from several dozen wounds all over his head, neck and sides, and from what looked like several tears in the thin membrane of his wings.  Blue as well as a blackish red blood dripped from his mouth and down the sides of his face, but the dragon’s attention was only for Castiel.

Castiel watched Dean carefully, noticing the slight trembling of his wings and his slight wince as he put weight on a hand that had a claw nearly completely ripped off.  Castiel barely noticed he himself was also shaking until his teeth started to clack together.

A heavy weight fell into his arms and the young angel startled and screamed, shattering the silence that had crept into the twilight as someone grabbed him by the arms.

“Are you alright?”  Claire asked, her face close to his.  In his confusion, Castiel fell back to the ground and tried to push her away, but she held on tightly to him.  “Castiel, are you hurt?” She asked forcefully, pulling him up by his arms so that he was sitting again. Dean scrambled forward to crouch down next to them, blood from his many wounds staining the ground as he watched them intently.

“Castiel, talk to me.”  Claire said, shaking him slightly.  “Did it hurt you?” Castiel nodded, his teeth clenched too tightly to be able to speak.  He was shaking, shaking more than he had when he was shivering with cold. And though the chill in the air was still piercing him to the bone, it was not the cause of his weakly trembling limbs.

A broken sob from Castiel silenced Claire’s further questions, and Castiel grabbed her and held onto her with all his might.  He buried his face in his shoulder and cried, he shuddered and gasped the cold air into his lungs quickly, but no matter how quickly or forcefully he filled his lungs, he felt as if he were trying to breathe underwater.  

He’d been sure he would die with that hideous creature’s knife in his chest, to still be alive was more than he could process.

He wished he were still at home.  He wanted his island and his family more fiercely than he could express.  And he’d almost had any chance of seeing them again ripped away from him. What would his parents have thought if he’d died?  What of Gabriel, and Anna? What of Hael?

The thought sent sobs through his body as he shook his head into the curve of Claire’s shoulder.  He cried at how pathetic and weak he was, that he’d tried his best and still almost been murdered for his act of foolhardiness.  He cried loudly, beyond caring what Dean or the rest of the dragons would think of him. Castiel sobbed until he couldn’t breathe, and fell limp into Claire’s arms while he struggled to take a breath.  He was exhausted, he felt as if he could fall into the night and sleep his life away if the voices around him would just be quiet.

Claire was chanting his name, and he could hear deep voices speaking draconic to each other, one of them speaking and clicking very quickly.

“Let him get it out.”  A man’s voice said, and it took Castiel a moment to remember that Rufus was the only human male nearby.  Castiel took a deep shuddering breath and moved his head to the side to look past Claire’s arm.

Samuel and Benny were standing nearby, though Castiel could only see the very tip of Benny’s dark tail.  He glanced up to see Dean hovering over Castiel and the humans, blood still dripping from his mouth and nose and his wings spread in an awkward half raised position.  Blood ran down the ridges of his wings, and the sight had Castiel tearing up again. Dean’s eyes didn’t betray any emotions, but they were wide and absolutely focused on Castiel.

“Castiel, you need to relax.  Deep breaths, try to slow it down.”  Rufus said soothingly, and Castiel realized that Rufus had been behind him, rubbing his back gently while he cried into Claire’s shoulder.  Without warning, the angel was lifted off the ground by the human man, who quickly carried him to the cookfire and laid him out on a bedroll.  Castiel kept a hold of Claire’s arm and dragged her along with them, tears still streaming down his face.

“Where are you hurt?”  Rufus asked, and Castiel had to take several deep breaths before he could force himself to answer.

“Wing.  And my foot.”  He said with a raw voice, though it was probably obvious that the wing he’d used to hit the creature was injured.  It hung limp from his back and had dragged along behind him in the grass while Rufus carried him across their campsite.  His wing was still laying out on the ground beside him, being carefully avoided by Dean’s feet as Castiel’s soon-to-be shadowed the two humans and angel.

“Take his shoes off, Claire.”  Rufus ordered, and immediately buried his hands in the feathers of Castiel’s wings.  The angel sucked in a hiss of pain when Rufus’s fingers brushed against the joint he’d hit the skull creature with, and grit his teeth and moaned as Claire eased his boot off his right foot.

“Try and tuck in your wing.”  Rufus ordered after feeling along the bones for a few moments.  Castiel rolled slightly and tucked his wing to his back. It hurt, but it wasn’t excruciating, and his wing obeyed him when he ordered it to bend.

“I don’t think it’s broken.”  He panted, his stomach roiling and his body still shaking as tears ran down his face uncontrollably.  “I’ve sprained a wing before and it feels the same.”

“I think you’re right.”  Rufus muttered as Claire called his attention down to Castiel’s feet.  Castiel lifted his head and looked at the damage.

One of the creatures had pierced through his boot while he was running, and the meat on his heel had several deep cuts on each side.  The cuts bled freely, and a section of his heel was peeled away from his foot and dangling in the air. He hissed and cried out when Claire wiped at his wounds with a clean cloth.

“Oh, gods!”  Castiel moaned out, dropping his head against the bedroll.  He could see Dean above him, standing extremely close and watching him unblinkingly, and also Samuel watching attentively at more of a distance.  He knew Benny was also still close, but none of the dragons tried to intervene in the humans’ care of Castiel.

“You’re going to be okay, Castiel.”  Claire reassured him. “They aren’t venomous.”

Castiel moaned and shook his head.  Oh, how he’d wished he’d practiced his healing spells more often in his classes when he was younger.  He couldn’t now remember why he’d neglected to learn such a useful skill. He should have worked harder at them, even if they hadn’t come naturally to him.  He could have even asked Gabriel to tutor him, his brother would have loved the chance to flaunt his skills, even to tutor Castiel. Without magic, his foot would take weeks or possibly months to heal.  He’d run the risk of infection, or he may never walk properly or without pain again.

“We’ll have to clean it.”  Rufus said, interrupting Castiel’s racing thoughts.  He rose out of his crouch at Castiel’s feet to start rooting through a small bag.  He returned quickly and unstoppered a clear glass bottle. “Brace yourself.” The man said, and it was the only warning Castiel was given before it felt like fire was poured into his cuts.

Castiel groaned and then cried out as the pain grew in intensity, thrashing against the hands that held him though their grip did not give.  Dean lowered his head down to Castiel’s level and the angel grabbed a protruding ridge firmly and pulled Dean’s nose closer. He bumped his forehead against Dean’s nose and bit his lip hard enough to taste blood.  He could feel Dean’s blood running over the back of his hand and through his fingers, and wished the humans would attend to Dean’s wounds first, since the dragon prince's injuries were far worse than Castiel’s and Dean had bled enough to drain a horse or two by now.

“All done.”  Rufus said, and though he wasn’t actively pouring the hot liquid onto Castiel’s injuries, the fire that was already there continued to burn.

“Who’s good at healing?”  Rufus asked. “We can’t leave this open overnight, not while we’re on the move.”  Dean groaned something out, his deep voice reverberating in the tip of his snout where Castiel still had his forehead pressed against his scales.

“Bobby and Jody may not be back for a while.”  Claire said hesitantly, her words spoken over by a second dragon.  Dean lifted his face away from Castiel to speak, though he pushed a hand forward so Castiel could grip the tip of one of his claws tightly.

The angel lost track of the dragon’s conversation as he writhed on the bedroll.  He didn’t cry out again, not wanting to seem weaker than he’d already done by freaking out and crying himself hoarse.  He screwed his face up against the pain, gritting his teeth and clawing at the ground beside him. He squeezed Dean’s claw tightly, and gasped for breath as the burning in his foot ever so slowly started to fade.

As the pain dimmed to a manageable level, he noticed the dragons’ conversation was getting a bit heated.  He opened his eyes to see Dean and Samuel standing snout to snout, their lips pulled back to show off their teeth and growling at each other as they argued in deep moans and sharp clicks.  

Castiel groaned and let his head fall back and closed his eyes.  Whatever Dean and his grandfather were fighting about wasn’t being translated, so he didn’t let himself worry about it.  The pain of his injuries were almost more than he could bear anyway, without the added brainpower of worrying over the dragon’s conversation.

His eyes snapped open again as the deep  _ thuds _ of dragon wings shook the air.  The ground trembled as Bobby and Jody landed on the outskirts of their campsite, the dark, limp forms of deer hanging from each of their jaws, with four more held in their front claws.

It was like Dean and Samuel had been doused with cold water; they immediately put away their fangs and separated, though Castiel noticed it wasn’t Dean that retreated as much as it was Samuel who backed off.  Dean let out an urgent shout, his voice like a scream, and Bobby and Jody abandoned their catches to rush towards Castiel and the rest of the group.

Dean and Bobby conversed in short grunts for a few moments, then Bobby lowered his head down to Castiel.  The angel stayed very still under the focused gaze of the gray dragon, and gripped Dean’s foreclaw tightly while he lay under the scrutiny.

Bobby clicked, and Rufus immediately lifted Castiel’s injured foot into the air.  Bobby lowered the tip of his massive head down, and Castiel started shying away from his hot breath and jagged fangs.  He didn’t even realize he was doing it until Claire stopped him.

“Relax, Castiel.”  Claire said, wrapping one of her arms around his shoulders to hold him still.  “Bobby’s going to fix your foot.” Dean moaned something out, and Claire nodded at him.

“Dean doesn’t want you to get sick.  He says he promise that it won’t hurt.”  

“Okay.”  Castiel said, his eyes on Dean as he gripped his soon-to-be husband’s claw tightly.  If Dean said it’ll be fine, Castiel would do it. He trusted Dean.

He felt a sharp twinge run up the back of his leg as Bobby’s snout made contact with his ruined heel, but immediately the pain gave way to a warm tingling that Castiel was all too familiar with.  The healing magic the dragons used was the very same as what Castiel and the other angels had been using for generations. Castiel turned his eyes from Dean so that he could watch a soft golden light build in the air around his injured foot, and when it faded, so did his pain.

It was like a flip had been switched.  Castiel sagged in Claire’s arms as the pain from his foot disappeared, and he let out a soft whimper in his relief as he forced his eyes opened again.

When Bobby pulled away, Castiel’s injuries were as if they’d never been.  No cuts or blood remained, and it was only the deep slices in the leather of his boot that held proof that he’d ever been hurt.  Bobby immediately raised his head and turned to Dean with a sharp click. Dean bowed his head, and allowed Bobby to touch their snouts together.

The glow around Dean as Bobby healed his injuries was blinding compared to the candle-like glow that had emanated from Castiel’s sliced foot.  Castiel watched in awe at the raw power of Bobby healing Dean’s many injuries. To heal so many, not to mention so many at once, was a feat unheard of by the angel.  Castiel supposed that dragons must really be as powerful in their magic as the old warriors on his island had claimed.

Dean shook his head and snorted once Bobby finished, and slowly turned his attention back to Castiel.  Castiel bit his lip and pushed himself up, frowning at his sore wing joint. He experimentally rolled his ankle, and when he looked up again, Dean’s face was right next to him, his huge eye watching the angel carefully.

“Thank you, Bobby.”  Castiel said before the gray dragon could turn away.  Bobby’s huge eye blinked slowly at him once before he groaned something out and everyone started moving to collect the abandoned deer carcasses.

Only Claire, Dean, and Castiel stayed where they were.  Castiel heaved a deep sigh of relief as he looked up at his dragon, thankful that they were both relatively unharmed.  The silence stretched for what felt like hours.

“What were those things, Dean?”  Castiel asked hoarsely, and Dean’s nostrils flared as he answered.

“They were demons.”  Claire translated quietly.  “And those chewy bastards they were riding are called hellhounds.”  Dean shook his massive head and looked over his shoulder. “Let’s move away from the fire.  We’re in Rufus’ way and he needs to cook your dinner.”

“Can you walk, Castiel?”  Claire asked, and the angel nodded.

“My foot feels fine.”  He assured her quietly, though he frowned at his boot when he picked it up.  It was cut to ribbons at the heel and filled with blood, he turned it every which way in his hands, but decided there would be no repairing it.

“I have some other shoes in my trunk.”  He said, and Dean, Claire, and even Benny followed him over to it.  Castiel found that this time, he didn’t mind that they were so close while he was rooting through his private things.  He desperately did not want to be alone in these mountains.

“Get whatever you need to bathe.”  Claire told him when Dean clicked and moaned at him.  “You have blood and dirt all over your clothes, and Dean wants to wash the blood off his back and wings.”

“All right.”  Castiel agreed even though he was a little flustered at the prospect of bathing in front of Dean.  He got a clean change of clothes, a small lantern that would light up with a simple spell, and his small bag of soaps and shampoo before telling Dean he was ready.  Dean chittered at Benny, who got up and walked with them to the stream.

“You’re coming?”  Castiel asked Claire as she made to join them, his voice pitching high with embarrassment.

“Just so you and Dean can talk if you want.”  She said, grinning at his discomfort. “I won’t look,” she winked at him, and he felt his cheeks heat up, “promise.”  Dean clicked sharply at her, and though Claire declined to translate, Castiel hoped that Dean was telling her off for her teasing.

The stream wasn’t far; it only lay a mere two minute’s walk through the trees.  Even though Castiel had a fully capable dragon on either side of him for protection, he still felt jumpy as they walked through the gloom.  He kept seeing shadows moving out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked closer, there was nothing there. He kept close to Dean’s side, and was thankful that Benny was also there with them.

The stream was black as tar in the dark night and cold enough to cool the air around it by several degrees.  It rushed with such a fury and power that it had Castiel worrying about getting swept away. Dean clicked at Benny again, and Claire translated for him.

“Benny can hide you under his wing while you bathe if you’d like.”

“Please.”  Castiel said to the dark blue dragon, and Benny moaned something out to him.

“He said he’d would be happy to, but warned you not to get too far into the water.  If you fell in, we wouldn’t see you fall and it would take longer to get you out.” Claire said, and Castiel nodded seriously.

“I can feel the water’s chill from here.”  The angel said, shivering though he was fully clothed and standing a good ten feet from the water’s edge.  “I don’t plan on submerging at all if I can help it.”

Benny laughed a deep  _ huc-huc-huc _ that sounded only slightly like Dean’s laugh, and walked with Castiel to the water’s edge.  He spread his wing over Castiel, and the angel quickly placed his hand over his lantern and muttered a single word.  The inside of Benny’s wing was illuminated with a soft red glow that made the thick leathery folds of his wing look dark purple.  

He normally would have grinned slightly at the sight, but as it was he merely stared blankly at the color for only a moment before setting his things on the ground and stripping to his underwear.  Even inside Benny’s wing, the flowing water kept the air crisp and cold, and Castiel was shivering so hard he could barely stand it before he’d even touched the water.

When he first dipped his washcloth into the water, he hissed in pain.  Though the water was cold, it almost felt as if it were burning him. He wasn’t sure how that was possible, but was careful to touch the water only as often as strictly necessary because of it.

He decided not to shampoo his hair, fearing he would fall in if he had to lean over the stream, or that he would freeze his ears or nose off even if he managed to keep his footing.  He scrubbed only a small amount of soap over his washcloth and wiped it over his skin, leaving goosebumps and more violent shivers wherever he touched. He scrubbed the drying blood on his foot, and hissed again in pain as he touching the burning cold water to rinse the soap from his cloth.

He made quick work of wiping the soap from his skin, and by the time he’d dried off and was dressing, he was shivering so hard that he could barely dress himself.  It took him a half dozen tries to lace up his tunic, and he could barely feel his toes as he pulled fresh socks and shoes on.

“Okay, I’m ready!”  He called out, eager to get away from the frigid water and into his bed roll.  All he wanted was a good night’s sleep, it seemed like Castiel hadn’t slept well since the last time he’d slept in his bed back home.

Benny tucked his wing back into place, and Castiel heard a splash and looked over in time to see Dean emerging from the stream.  He was dripping water from head to claws, but didn’t seem to be nearly as cold as Castiel, who had only submerged his hands.

Dean groaned at Castiel as they walked back.

“Feel better?”  Claire translated, and Castiel nodded.

“Yes, but I’m really cold now.”  He said, his voice wavering slightly as his teeth chattered.  Dean  _ huc-huc-hucked _ and clicked and moaned at him.

“I’m not surprised.  Your island was very warm.  Turn up your furnace for now, you’ll warm up once you get into bed.”  Claire said, and Castiel huffed a soft laugh at the dragon’s strange phrase.  It felt strange to laugh after what happened, but his brain fixated on the amusing phrase, making it seem more important than it probably was.

“Turn up your furnace.”  Castiel muttered to himself.  “I’ll have to remember that one.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nursing School is getting CRAZY you guys. The next six weeks I have clinicals, along with tests and this and that and the other. So the next chapter will be posted... when it gets posted. I'm really sorry about that, but I haven't had time to even write this week. :/


	5. Chapter 5

“So, demons and hellhounds.”  Castiel said as he packed his dirty clothes and bathing supplies back into his trunk.  The young angel was fighting off his exhaustion with everything he had, but he had questions that needed to be answered before his brain would stop humming long enough to let him sleep.  

“What are they?”  Castiel asked as he looked up at Dean, who was crouched beside him.  He and Benny were making a living barrier between where Claire and Castiel were sitting and the darkness of the woods.  Dean was watching Rufus and the dragons as they worked, and seemed to not have heard Castiel’s question, for he didn’t answer.

“They were humans once.”  Claire answered, also glancing up questioningly at the suddenly stoic Dean.  “Legends say they made a deal with a powerful creature of fire and death, and that their souls became trapped.  They take over bodies as their old ones rot away, and are forced to do their master’s bidding for eternity. The only way to kill them is to burn them with the heat of dragon fire.”

Castiel didn’t mention that he’d burned two demons with his angelic fire.  Neither Claire nor Dean hadn’t mentioned that they’d seen Castiel use magic, and he wasn’t about to admit his species’ abilities to them.

“Thank you for trying to help me.”  Claire said softly as Castiel closed his trunk.  “And I’m sorry, you wouldn’t have gotten hurt if you hadn’t tried to help me get away.”

Castiel remembered the glint of the knife as the demon tried to sink the blade into his chest and shuddered.  “Those things don’t live in the mountains of the dragon's homeland, do they? I think I might not like living there if I know those things are running around.”

“Oh, no.”  Claire assured him.  “They can’t survive in the cold.”

Castiel shivered again and settled down next to Dean.  He leaned back so that he was propped up against his soon-to-be husband’s warm ribs.  “Good.” He said with a sniff.

“Yeah.”  Claire agreed, coming over to sit beside Castiel.  The angel leaned into her side and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.  Her warmth was almost as fiery as Dean’s, and between the two of them, Castiel was sure he’d be warmed up in no time.  His touch caused Claire to stiffen for a few moments, but then she lifted an arm to throw over Castiel’s shoulders and pulled him close.  Castiel sighed into the contact.

“The only places they still run rampant are in these wild parts.”  Claire continued, and Castiel got the impression that she was only speaking to fill the silence.  “Dragons and humans have pacts, if any demons show up near the human’s settlements, King John will send a few of his warriors to take care of them.  In return, the humans give us shares of their livestock and crops. It’s the only way the dragons can live up in the North without also having settlements in a warmer climate.”

“Is that how the dragons get their humans?”  Castiel asked, and bit his lip at his forwardness as Claire leaned back to raise an eyebrow at him.  “Like, how did you and Rufus come to live with the dragons?”

“Oh.”  Claire said, her pinched expression clearing.  “That.” Castiel waited a few moments, watching Claire closely while she stared thoughtfully at the other dragons.  

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”  He said softly. “I didn’t mean to pry. It must be a difficult thing to discuss.”  

“It’s not that, it’s just that I-.”  Claire winced and interrupted herself.  “I promise to tell you someday, okay? Just, not today.”

“Alright.”  Castiel said, pulling Claire closer to him with a soft sigh.  Claire hugged his shoulders and slowly rested her cheek against the top of his head.  

It was almost like cuddling with Anna, given that Anna was extremely uncomfortable with cuddling with him for some reason.  Still, Castiel hadn’t realized how badly he’d been missing the soft touches and cuddling of his people until now that he had it again.  He lifted his uninjured wing and wrapped it around Claire’s shoulders. She stiffened again at first, but soon relaxed into it. Castiel was glad she didn’t object, his wing trapped her warmth in his feathers, and in turn heated them like a blanket.

“Y’know, Dean’s right.”  Claire said, prompting the dragon in question to turn his head so he could watch them out of one eye while keeping his other eye on the goings-on of the other dragons in their company.

“Right about what?”  Castiel asked, rubbing his gritty post-tears eyes with one hand and settling his head onto Claire’s shoulder better.

“You’re much gentler than dragons.  It’s kinda nice.” She hugged him tighter by a minute degree and Castiel shuffled closer willingly, his eyes on Dean.

“Can you stay with me and Dean tonight?”  He asked after a moment. “Not because I just want you as an interpreter, I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Claire huffed a quiet laugh.  “Do angels usually share their beds with people they’ve just met?”  Castiel felt his cheeks heat up in a fierce blush.

“I didn’t mean be alone like that!”  He protested, but Claire hushed him.

“No, I know what you meant, Castiel.  And I would stay, but Rufus and I are keeping watch tonight while the rest of you sleep.”  She looked at him with a sad smile. “I can’t leave such an important task to him alone.”

“I understand.”  Castiel said softly, fidgeting with the hem of his tunic.  “It’s just that-.” He sighed heavily, trying to think of how to express the deep-seated dissatisfaction he was feeling in his heart.  “Things are so different now. I miss being close with someone, it’s nice to be hugged and held again.”

“I’m afraid you won’t find many people in the Northern Mountains who will be willing to sit with you like this.”  Claire said, and Castiel felt his heart drop.

“I think I’ll be very lonely if that is true.”  Castiel whispered, and Claire turned to face him while staying under his wing.

“You’ll have Dean.”  She said, and Castiel glanced up at his soon-to-be husband and noticed that he’d been drawing his head closer to listen to them.

“I know.”  He said carefully, mindful of the fact that Dean was listening.  “But I can’t imagine it would feel the same, no matter how many times we tried it.”  Claire made a choking sound and he looked at her to find her wincing again.

“It’s not going to be as bad as you’re thinking, Castiel.”  Claire said, a little breathlessly. He watched with furrowed brows as she wiped away a few beads of sweat.

“Are you alright?”  Castiel asked with a frown.  “You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No, no.”  She assured him.  “I’m fine.” Castiel nodded, unsure if Claire was being truthful or not.  She certainly _looked_ as if she were in pain, but he didn’t know human expressions well enough to be sure.

“Can we keep doing this until dinner is ready?”  Claire asked, indicating their hug.

“I’d like to.”  Castiel said, drawing closer to the human and holding her close with his wing.

“What do you call this, anyway?”  She asked, and Castiel laughed softly at her.

“Cuddling.”  He told her. “Do humans not cuddle?”

“I haven’t been around humans much.”  Claire admitted, and though her voice was light, Castiel internally winced.

“Sorry.”  He murmured, but Claire just squeezed his shoulders.

“Don’t be.  I told you I’d tell you everything later.  It’s not as bad as you’re probably thinking.”  Castiel raised a hand and stroked Claire’s braids, wondering if the human girl could even remember her family, or if she’d been around dragons since she was very small and could only remember being in their company.  Not remembering what she’d lost when she was taken into the care of dragons to be an interpreter would certainly make things easier, as it would be hard for Claire to miss someone she couldn’t remember.

Still, Castiel felt a tremendous pity for the human girl.  To be taken away from her family was something he could identify with all too well at the moment.

“That feels nice.”  Claire murmured as Castiel continued stroking her hair, and Castiel hummed his agreement into her shoulder.

 

“Wake up, Castiel.”  Claire said softly, shaking his shoulder gently.  “I gotta go help Rufus with dinner.” Castiel hummed and raised his head off Claire’s shoulder, frowning at the cold that bit at his cheeks once his wing was no longer shielding his face from the wind.

They were still leaning against Dean’s side, with the firelight bright and illuminating the four other dragons nearby.  The dragons were devouring deer carcass’, and the only noise besides the calling of the tree frogs were the snapping of bones under powerful jaws.  Castiel looked to Dean, and saw that while he had a deer of his own lying near his front claws, the animal was whole and untouched.

Dean was watching Claire and Castiel closely, and Castiel smiled tightly at him while he stretched, though the expression surely didn’t reach his eyes.  Once Castiel’s wing was no longer draped over Claire, the human girl got up and walked over to the cooking fire, where a large hunk of meat that looked like a leg of one of the deer was being turned on a spike by Rufus.

“Hello, Dean.”  Castiel said, getting to his feet and carefully stretching out his injured wing.  The appendage was stiff and painful to move, but so long as Castiel spread his wing slowly the aches weren’t too much to bear.  Dean watched the angel test his wing’s limits in silence, and only once Castiel had his wing tucked against his back did Dean start speaking.

It was quite a long-winded speech, though Castiel didn’t have a clue what he was saying because the two people who could translate were busy preparing dinner.  When Dean finished he hung his head low, well within Castiel’s reach, and blinked his huge eye slowly.

“I hope Claire heard that,” Castiel said without much hope for brevity, reaching out to run his fingers over the bumpy scales around Dean’s eye.  Dean sighed heavily at the angel’s touch, his breath strong enough to send fallen leaves swirling into the air all the way across the clearing. Castiel matched Dean’s sigh and leaned his forehead against his betrothed’s face, and the two stood in companionable silence for a long moment.  

“You were amazing earlier, Dean.”  Castiel said softly, lifting his head in time to see Dean’s eye open and focus on him.  “The way you took on all of those demons and hellhounds. You’re incredible.” Castiel leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his soon-to-be husband’s scaly cheek, and took a long moment to just stand close to Dean and rub his fingers along his face.

“Thank you for protecting me.”  He said. Dean hummed softly, the sound almost a growl (Dean was a _dragon_ , after all), but Castiel thought he knew what Dean meant.

Claire brought Castiel his food a few minutes later, which was a thick cut of meat that the angel knew he wouldn’t be able to eat even if given a full day.  Castiel fetched his nearly empty waterskin and completely full wineskin from his backpack and leaned against Dean’s side again to eat. Claire sat beside them with her own share of food and waterskin, and once the human and angel started on their dinner, Dean started eating his as well.

“Claire, did you hear what Dean said to me just a moment ago?”  Castiel asked as he passed the human the waterskin.

“Yeah.”  She said, shooting a glance at Dean.  “I didn’t translate it because he’s being stupid.”  Castiel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he followed Claire’s gaze to Dean, who was steadfastly ignoring Claire while he ate.  Castiel couldn’t stand to watch the blood streaming out of the deer every time Dean took a bite, so it wasn’t long before he pressed the human for more information to distract himself from the gory sight.

“What did he say?”

Claire rolled her eyes.  “Well, and I’m paraphrasing here, because he said quite a bit, but he said he wanted to apologize for putting you in harm’s way.  He said he should have been more alert and aware of our surroundings. He’s fought against demons and hellhounds before and knows their scents, he said he should have seen them sooner.

“Which is dumb.”  Claire said, raising her voice a bit and speaking pointedly to Dean.  “Because they were downwind and who the hell would have expected them to attack with a dragon your size so close by?”  Dean growled lowly, showing off his teeth but still not looking back at Claire.

“What did he say?”  Castiel asked hesitantly, a shiver running up his spine as he felt the growl reverberating against his wings where he was leaning against Dean’s side.

“Nothing, he was just disagreeing with me.”  Claire said around a bite of dinner that she followed up with a swig of her water.  She must have seen something akin to pleading in Castiel’s eyes, because she handed the waterskin over for Castiel to take a long drink from it.  “He also said that it is completely his fault you got hurt, which is also crap, because you _saw_ how many there were.”

“I thought Dean fought valiantly.”  Castiel said, reaching back for a grounding touch to Dean’s scales.  “And it’s not your fault I got hurt, Dean, it’s my own. I had the chance to get away but decided to go for Claire.”  Dean turned his head towards Castiel, and looked at him silently for a long moment before speaking.

“You are extraordinarily brave, my prince Castiel, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that I was only allowed to be a member of your escort under the condition that I protect you while on our way.  I nearly failed in that task. It is not something that should be taken lightly.” Castiel didn’t have an answer to that, and Claire shook her head at Dean.

“He said something about that earlier, too.”  Claire said, drawing Castiel’s attention away from his soon-to-be husband.  “He said that if he’d been doing his job, you wouldn’t have had to come help me.  So, and he said this, I don’t agree with him, but he said that it’s almost doubly his fault that you got hurt, because he should have also been better at protecting me.  You should have never felt like you needed to intervene on my behalf.”

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to process that logic.  After a few moments, he shook his head and decided it must be a dragon thing.  Or, Dean was an alpha male, maybe it was an alpha thing. Still, he would very much like to talk to Dean about this privately, even if it meant that the conversation would be one-sided.  If he continued to disagree with Dean with Claire there translating, Dean might feel as if Castiel was siding with Claire and that they were ganging up on him, and he didn’t want that.

The angel let his head fall against Dean’s side and stared blankly towards the other dragons.  Jody and Bobby were still eating, while Samuel and Benny were licking their foreclaws clean of blood.

“Claire,” Castiel said very softly, “what were Dean and Samuel upset about, just before Bobby and Jody came back?”

“Delicate way of putting it.”  She mumbled back, glancing over her shoulder at Samuel.  Dean clicked a word or two out and Claire nodded.

“He said I could tell you.”  She said, speaking so softly that Castiel had to strain his ears to hear her.  “Okay, so Rufus said we needed to heal you, and Dean said that he wanted Bobby to do it.  Bobby is the best weaver in the capital, he leads the weaving core. Healing someone as small and unusual as you would be immensely difficult, and Dean wanted to wait for Bobby, because these things can go wrong.”

“Wait, what’s a weaver?”  Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Magic weaver.  Oh, sorry, I think the word in this language is magician?”  Claire asked.

“Something like that.”  Castiel said with a forced shrug, though his nonchalance was probably ruined by his wide eyes.  He couldn’t believe how easily Claire spoke of Dragon magic, and Dean wasn’t even attempting to stop the human from spilling the dragons’ secrets.  

Claire huffed a heavy breath and glanced over her shoulder again.  Castiel followed her gaze, but none of the dragons seemed to have overheard their conversation so far.

“Samuel wanted to heal you, and Dean got upset, and told him to back off.  Um, Samuel tried to pull rank, and Dean said some words-.”

“What words?”  Castiel asked, and Claire hesitated until Dean groaned something else out.

“He said to tell you.”  Claire said before Castiel could ask.  “Dean told Samuel that if he so much as touched you, Dean would rip his wings off.”  Castiel’s feathers puffed up in alarm, and he couldn’t help but glance over at Dean, who was now finished eating and was licking his claws clean as if they weren’t talking about him fatally maiming his own grandfather.

“Dean said that?”  Castiel asked softly.

“He did.  He meant it, too.”  Claire told him. “And Samuel told Dean he’d already fucked up, letting you get hurt in the first place, that Dean’s father wouldn’t approve of him acting all high and mighty about who fixed his screw up.”

“Uh-huh.”  Castiel urged when Claire hesitated again.  The human shrugged and shook her head.

“That’s it.”  Claire said. “Bobby and Jody arrived directly afterward, and Dean asked Bobby to heal you and he did.”  Castiel frowned and shook his head.

“I don’t understand.”  Castiel said, still keeping his voice low.  “Why didn’t Dean want Samuel to do it? What was he worried about?”

“It’s hard to explain.”  Claire said slowly. “If he had messed up the spell, even a little, then you could have been, oh, what’s the word, Dean?”  Dean clicked out a few words, and Claire shook her head.

“You know that doesn’t translate.”  She told him, and her eyebrows furrowed in concentration for a moment.  “Okay, so basically, if the spell is wrong, then the person being healed would change, but there’s no way to live through a change, and you’d either lose your leg or, if the spell went really wrong, you’d lose your life.”

“Oh.”  Castiel murmured, reaching back again to rub his fingertips against Dean’s scales.  “Then I’m glad Dean was looking out for me.”

Claire nodded seriously.  “That’s why Dean only trusted Bobby to do it, because it’s especially difficult to heal someone if you’ve never weaved magic over someone of that species before.  He didn’t want Samuel to rush it and hurt you even worse.”

“That makes sense, I guess.”  Castiel said slowly, thinking back on his own magic lessons on his island.  He’d never been good at healing magic, and now he was thinking that maybe it was because he’d missed an important lesson or something.  He certainly didn’t _remember_ learning about differences between healing animals, angels, humans, or dragons.  

He’d always thought of the healing spell as a one-spell cure-all, and the only limit to what a spellcaster could heal was their own talent.  But maybe dragon magic wasn’t as alike to his own angelic magic as he thought, and healing had a familiar glow no matter what kind of healing spell was being performed.

Castiel simply didn’t know; it wasn’t like he had studied magic as closely as Gabriel or the other magical scholars did, he’d barely scratched the surface of that field because he’d always been drawn to more practical studies.  Before he’d presented as an omega, Castiel had dreamed of the glory that could be found on the battlefield. He’d spent much of his childhood studying battle tactics and practicing drills with the other starry-eyed children. He’d gotten fairly decent with a blade before he presented and his mother forbade him from going back to the training field.

He’d kept his blade, of course, not that his mother necessarily approved of that.  It was in his trunk, wrapped in the same linens it had been in for almost two years now.  He’d kept it well polished and sharp, it was as ready to be used now as it had been when he’d put away his dreams of leading a garrison of his own.  He wondered if having his blade on him would have helped during the demon attack earlier.

He immediately discounted the thought as folly; Claire had said the only thing that could kill demons was dragon fire.  If Castiel had tried to use his blade against the wicked creatures, he likely would have lost his life.

“Hey, are you going to eat that?”  Claire asked, startling Castiel out of his reverie.  She was eyeing his partially-eaten deer thigh with a hungry look on her face.

“No, I’m full.”  Castiel said, handing over the spit and reaching for his wineskin.  “Dig in.” Castiel turned his attention back to Dean when the maroon dragon turned his head around to stare at Castiel with one critical eye.

Dean moaned something out to Claire, and the human stopped eating for a moment to give the angel a once-over.

“Dean wants to know if you’re feeling sick.”  Claire said after swallowing a huge bite.

“No?”  Castiel said, frowning slightly at Dean.  “Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re not eating.”  Claire translated Dean’s clicks, and Castiel frowned again.

“I ate.”  He said, and stared at Dean as the dragon continued to eye him seriously.  “What?” He asked after a moment, but Dean just shook his head and clicked something at him.

“Are you sure you feel okay?  Claire’s eaten more than three times what you ate.”  Castiel glanced at Claire, who was giving Dean the stink eye for his comment, then he shrugged.

“I’m fine, Dean, really.”  He said, trailing his fingers between the scales on Dean’s side.  The thick skin between the scales was warm and dry, and Castiel imagined that Dean could feel the touches to his skin better than when Castiel touched his scales.  The dragon hummed again, but dropped it, and the three were quiet for a long moment. Castiel opened his wineskin and took a long drink, making a face as he swallowed the bitter liquid.

“You should get some rest.”  Claire said, and Castiel glanced at her before he nodded.

“I feel exhausted.  And it’s so cold here.”  The warmth that he’d felt while cuddling with Claire was long gone now.  He was leaning heavily into Dean’s side, chasing the dragon’s warmth, but he was starting to shiver again.

“Did you bring something to sleep in?”  Claire asked, and Castiel nodded. He had to force himself to his feet, the last thing he wanted to do was to leave his source of heat.  He pulled his bedroll out of his trunk and laid it out on the ground.

“What’s in this one?”  Claire asked, holding both his wine and waterskin in her hands and giving the slightly smaller wineskin a gentle shake.

“Wine.”  Castiel said as he removed his shoes and crawled under his blanket fully clothed.  “You can have a drink if you’d like.”

Claire bit her lip and looked over her shoulder at the dragons.  “Thanks, but, I think Jody would skin me alive if she saw me drinking wine.”

“Hey, Claire?”  Castiel said, propping himself up on his elbow, “Can you do me a favor?”

“I’m at your disposal, Castiel, of course.”  She said, and she sounded so formal that Castiel huffed a quiet laugh.

“My waterskin is nearly empty, could you refill it for me if you get a chance before I wake up?”

“No problem.”  Claire said, setting the wineskin on Castiel’s backpack but keeping the waterskin.

“Thank you.”  Castiel said, and Claire smiled at him.

“Dean’s right.”  She said, “You’re very different from a dragon.”  It seemed silly for Castiel to point out that he wasn’t a dragon, so he stayed silent.  

“Get some sleep.”  She said, getting to her feet and walking away, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Claire.”  He said, and he watched her walk away for a few more moments before Dean spread his wing over Castiel and blocked her from view.

Castiel could barely see under Dean’s wing, the light filtering in from the campfire was only enough for him to make out a few dark shapes.

“Are you under here with me, Dean?”  He asked, and there was a deep moan in reply.  Castiel raised a hand above him, his fingers wide and searching.  “Where are you?”

He felt Dean’s scales bump gently into his fingers, and Castiel cupped his soon-to-be husband’s snout.

“Will you sleep beside me?”  Castiel asked, ignoring the fact that he was completely surrounded by Dean at this point.  Dean moaned again and settled his head down in the grass so that his jaw was laid out beside the angel’s bedroll.  Castiel laid on his side and ran his fingers over the bumpy scales on Dean’s top lip.

“I don’t blame you for my injuries, Dean.”  He said softly, and he heard Dean sigh heavily.  “And I wish you didn’t blame yourself, either.” Castiel moved closer, his shoulder and hip leaning against Dean’s face.

“I think you fought brilliantly.”  He said, and pressed a soft kiss to Dean’s scales.   Dean huffed a sharp breath and scooted his face a few inches closer to Castiel.

“You mean a great deal to me, Dean.”  Castiel said seriously, “And I don’t appreciate you bad-mouthing the person I plan to marry.”

Dean _huc-huc-huck_ ed a surprised laugh, and Castiel smiled with pride and affection.  He lifted his wing to hug Dean’s face, and was pleased to find out that he could comfortably drape his uninjured wing over Dean’s forehead and let it hang there.  It was almost like a hug.

“Is that comfortable for you?”  Castiel asked, and Dean nodded ever so slightly.  “Good,” Castiel sighed, “I like hugging you.” The angel ran his fingers over his betrothed’s bumpy scales, smiling softly to himself.  He hadn’t thought he’d be able to cuddle and be close to Dean like this, but sleeping under Dean’s wing and laid out beside his face with Castiel’s wing resting over the bridge of Dean’s nose.. Well, it wasn't exactly what Castiel wanted, but it was pretty close.  Castiel held Dean tightly and stroked the dragon’s cheek softly until sleep took him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoooo, boy is this ever late!
> 
> Thank you all so much for sticking this out with me! It's been a hectic month of clinicals, classes, endless studying, plus I met my girlfriend and started a new job since the last update. The first round of clinicals are almost over for the semester, so I plan on getting started on his again real soon. :)


	6. Chapter 6

Dean woke Castiel up by pushing his chin into the angel’s shoulder and rolling Castiel onto his back.  He heard a light _huff-huff-huff_ as Dean sniffed at his chest, followed by a series of clicks.

“Mornin.”  Castiel mumbled, reaching up with both hands to run his fingers over Dean’s lower jaw.  Dean leaned into the touch, which leaned him into Castiel’s chest, and the weight of his chin forced most of Castiel’s air out of his lungs.

“Oof, _Dean_!”  He protested, pushing against his soon-to-be’s chin.  Dean raised his head again and moaned apologetically from deep within his chest.

“It’s okay.”  Castiel said, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.  Dean’s wing tinted everything underneath a dark purplish red, but it was slightly brighter than it had been when they’d fallen asleep, so Castiel figured the sun must have risen.  

“Is it time to wake up already?”  He asked. He felt as if he’d only slept for a few minutes.  Dean nodded his head once, then tilted his head to the side and shook his wing, sending a ripple through the appendage from Dean’s body to the tips.

“Please don’t move it just yet.”  Castiel said quickly, throwing his blanket off his legs.  “Let me get dressed first.” Dean chittered at him and withdrew his head and neck to give the angel some privacy.  Castiel was already dressed, he’d been so cold last night after bathing that he hadn’t bothered with pajamas, but it was fairly warm under Dean’s wing and he wasn’t eager to start shivering again.  He put on his shoes and pulled his jacket over his long-sleeved shirt, then rolled up his bedroll and stowed it in his trunk.

He was unsure of how much longer they’d be travelling, but he was certain that it would continue to be every bit as tedious as the past two days had been.  He’d only packed a single book into his trunk, and was thanking his lucky stars that Anna had it in her room when the rest of his books had been shipped off a few weeks before his birthday.  It wasn’t a great read, but it sure beat lying in Dean’s palm with only his own thoughts to entertain him. And since his thoughts had turned morbid as of late, and were sure to be even darker after his near miss with the demon’s blade, he needed a distraction.

The book went into his backpack.  The promise of mental stimulation during their trip was enough to greatly increase the young angel’s outlook on the day.

With his book safely stowed away, Castiel slowly unfurled his injured wing, feeling gingerly at the flesh hidden under his feathers with the tips of his fingers.  His wing’s furthest joint was warm to the touch, but only minimally swollen. It hurt even worse than it had the night before whenever he moved it, but he was still able to achieve a full range of motion, so he was confident in his analysis from last night.  He had a sprain and wouldn’t be able to fly for a week or so, but nothing was broken.

“Alright,” he said out loud, “I’m ready.”  Predictably, the wave of frigid air that greeted Castiel once Dean pulled in his wing had the angel shivering and stuffing his hands under his armpits for warmth.  Castiel wrapped his wings around his torso as Claire called out a good morning.

“Here’s your water.”  Claire said, handing over the full waterskin.  “Your breakfast is nearly ready, but we need to get moving, so you’ll have to eat in Dean’s hand again today.”

“That’s all right.”  Castiel said, eager to be on the move again.  Though the Southern mountains were lovely, and he would have very much liked to stay here a little longer to explore, the sights were ruined by the knowledge that demons and hellhounds freely roamed these lands.  Castiel could only hope that the Northern Mountains would also be beautiful.

“How is your wing feeling today?”  Claire translated for Dean. Castiel spread his hurt wing again slowly, making a face when his sore joint twinged in pain.

“Not good, but I still don’t think it’s broken.”  Castiel said, curling his wings around him again.

“I’m sorry, Castiel.”  Dean moaned out, bringing his head close enough to Castiel that the angel could reach out and touch him if he wanted.  “Bobby might have been able to heal it, but I didn’t ask him to because it’d be so risky. From what I read in my father’s library, angel wings are quite different from a dragons’.”  

“It’s fine.”  Castiel assured his betrothed, “It’ll be back to normal in a few days, and I don’t have to do any flying until it’s feeling better anyway.  There’s no reason to make a fuss.”

Dean leaned his head closer, and Castiel reached an arm out of the warmth of his curled wings to stroke the dragon’s face.  Dean hummed deep in his chest, a coil of light gray smoke rising out of his nose as he did.

“I’m just glad that you’re okay.”  Dean said after a moment, bringing his head up to its normal height.  “I would never forgive myself if you had sustained any lasting damage.”

“I’ll be fine.”  Castiel said again, “Like I said, I’ll be right as rain within the week.”

While Rufus cooked another unfortunate forest animal for Castiel’s breakfast, Castiel packed his things in his backpack in preparation to leave.  Once he was completely ready, he went to sit by the fire with Rufus and Claire. Dean and Benny followed him, and Dean sat close enough that Castiel could lean against his side and rest his head against him again.

“How much farther to the Northern Mountains?”  He asked Claire, but Claire frowned and looked to Rufus for the answer.

“One day to pass the grasslands, then half a day more to the border.  From there, it’ll be a few hours to reach the Southernmost caves.” Rufus said gruffly, his eyes on his work.  “We’ll rest there for two nights, the families there are eager to host the promised mate of the crowned prince.”

Castiel fidgeted with the hem of his jacket nervously.  Meeting a cave full of dragons was about as appealing as being ambushed by another group of demons, though he wouldn’t dare tell anyone in present company that he felt the two were comparable.

“Will there be anyone in particular I need to meet there?”  Castiel asked, and Dean answered this time.

“Only the Lord of the Southern caves.  His name is Crowley. He’s a bit wishy-washy and fancies himself a king, but the families of the Southern caves trust him and he’s very influential, even in the other settlements.  It would be good to fall in his favor.” Claire translated, and Castiel repressed a grimace.

This is why he and his siblings hated politics.  Influential people could be slimy scumbags but Castiel would still have to shake their hand and play nice.  Castiel hated it, but it would be his life from now on, so he dutifully disregarded his dislike and instead nodded seriously.

“Any advice to make Crowley like me?”  Castiel asked, and Dean thought for a moment, his only distraction the sharp snap of a stick from the underbrush just beyond the tree line.  Castiel watched as a small group of squirrels erupted from a bush, and felt Dean relax a moment later.

“I’m not sure.”  Dean said in a low growl.  “He likes me just fine, so that might be enough for him to take a liking to you, as well.  I mean, I like you, so just be yourself.” Though Claire was the one translating, Dean’s words set a warm fire ablaze in Castiel’s chest.

Dean liked him.  Castiel wasn’t completely mucking this up.  The sentiment was more reassuring than Dean could have possibly realized.

“I’ll keep that in mind, then.”  Castiel said with a soft smile, his eyes fixed on the ground.

After that, the morning dissolved into preparations to leave immediately.  Castiel was handed his breakfast and shooed to the side so Rufus could bank the fire.  Benny gathered Castiel’s trunk in his hand, and Samuel took to the skies to map out their way between the peaks.

Claire quickly bade them a good morning and hurried to Jody’s waiting hand.  Castiel grabbed his backpack and shouldered it, chewing on his rabbit breakfast as he walked up to his soon-to-be husband.

“I look forward to finishing this journey.”  Castiel said as he climbed into Dean’s waiting palm.  “Traveling is not the interesting adventure that it is when described in a book.”  His words drew a chortling laugh out of Dean, and Castiel laid back in his fiance's palm for another long day.

 

Castiel’s book kept him occupied through the late afternoon.  Reading in Dean’s palm wasn’t the most comfortable of reading nooks, but it wasn’t the worst, either.

Once they’d flown between the staggering peaks of the Southern mountain range, the ground below them flattened out into vacant grasslands dotted with small farming villages.  It was also considerably warmer there, for the first time since they’d left Castiel’s island, the young angel wasn’t shivering all day. The warmer winds had Castiel stretching out his injured wing often to see if it was still sore and stiff, he so hated that he couldn’t fly alongside Dean and the other dragons for a while, especially on such a beautiful, warm day.  

The dragons stopped for a short rest just before sunset, and Castiel very much suspected that they stopped at Dean’s insistence.  Castiel was given a few moments to relieve himself, but Rufus didn’t start a fire and the dragons didn’t catch him anything for dinner.  They were back in their air within five minutes of their landing.

Castiel nibbled on the last of his packed snacks while he watched the sun set, and pulled Dean’s thumb over the gap between the dragon’s fingers and palm once the light had faded from the sky.  He wondered what his siblings were doing as he packed his things safely into his backpack, and cried only a few tears for his missed family before he fell asleep.

 

During their stop the next morning, everyone moved around each other in near-perfect synchrony, as if everyone in their group were a dancer in a well-rehearsed performance.  The members of their dance troupe knew their roles well. Rufus and Claire would stoke a fire while Jody and Bobby went off to race each other and see who could catch a small animal for Castiel’s breakfast the fastest.  Castiel would use this time to wander off to relieve his bladder, then change into clean clothes under Dean’s wing. By the time Claire had the embers hot, Rufus had the unfortunate creature that would be Castiel’s food cleaned and on a spit.  While they waited for the meat to cook, Castiel, Dean, and Claire would sit around and talk while Benny played sentinel nearby and the dragons that Castiel now recognized as the older crowd planned the next leg of their trip. As soon as Castiel’s breakfast was ready, the fire was put out and the dragons readied themselves to leave.  There was only one thing about their stop that morning that fell outside of their usual routine.

“Castiel, you need to wear this.”  Rufus said, bringing over a heavy fur cloak that was nearly as long as Castiel was tall.

“Okay, what for?”  Castiel asked, taking the folded cloak into his arms and nearly falling over once he took its weight.  His grunts and struggling were noticed by Rufus and Claire, and the two humans were quick to help the angel put the garment over his shoulders.  Castiel had to keep a hand on Claire for a long moment while he got used to the way the cloak pulled him backwards.

With it on, Castiel’s wings were pinned tightly to his back and completely hidden under the cloak’s light gray fur.  The cloak was thick enough and pressed down on his wings so thoroughly that Castiel could have passed for a human if he so wished.

“The details of the crowned prince’s marriage have been a secret shared to only a few.”  Bobby explained, his groans and clicks translated by Rufus. “Dragons are a long-lived race, and the memories of our past strife with your people are still fresh in many families minds.  To reveal your true nature before your marriage to Dean is final could prove to be disastrous.”

“You can’t tell anyone you’re an angel, Castiel.”  Dean said through Claire, the maroon dragon lowering his head to nose at the soft fur of Castiel’s borrowed cloak.  “If anyone should suspect the truth, you must lie, and pretend to be terribly offended at the notion.”

“You want them to think I’m a human.”  Castiel surmised, and he saw Claire open her mouth to speak, but she snapped it closed quickly.  “Well, this will certainly do the trick,” the angel continued, “this cloak is so heavy that I can’t move my wings at all.”  Castiel made a face as he focused on trying to force his wings to move, but they could only push slightly against the weight of the cloak.

“I can tell your wings are under there when you move them.”  Dean said, “but if you keep them still, it’s hard to tell. You just look a little broader ‘round the shoulders than you actually are.”

Castiel nodded seriously.  He was actually a bit relieved for the disguise, though he had to force himself to ignore slight uncomfortable wiggle in his stomach at the untruthfulness the dragons were asking of him.  Pretending to be a human would attract far less attention than allowing anyone and everyone to know he was an angel. A dragon’s attention to an angel could bring out the worst of some of Dean’s people, their two species had only _just_ put away their swords and claws.

“I’ll keep them still.”  Castiel assured Dean and Bobby.  “I only ask that during meals and during other times I’m in public and need to sit, that I be given a chair without a back on it.  Otherwise I’ll be forced to sit on my feathers and they’ll bend.”

“We will ensure it.”  Dean groaned out immediately.  Castiel’s betrothed held out a giant hand for Castiel to climb into, and then they were off again.

 

Castiel was immensely grateful for the extra warmth the cloak provided.  He’d started shivering again during the night before, and now that they were high in the air and on the move again, the air held a weight to it that was very unlike the weight of water in the air around Castiel’s island.  

There were storm clouds up ahead, dark gray and foreboding.  Claire had warned Castiel during their stop that morning that they were nearing the Northern Mountains, and with it, weather colder than any they had seen since starting their journey North.  Dean had followed Claire’s warning with one of his own, that their small group would be travelling through a cold front, a weather pattern that brought snow into the area South of the mountain range.  Castiel was sure that the weight he was feeling in the air was this cold front Dean had mentioned.

Castiel had worried that he would freeze before they reached the Southern caves, but now that Rufus had lent him a cloak, he didn’t think he’d actually freeze.  He’d just be moderately uncomfortable until they reached the comfort of the dragon’s settlement.

Castiel huddled in a ball in Dean’s hand, the cloak wrapped tightly around him.  He wasn’t quite as cold as he’d been that first night of their travels, when he’d been wearing shorts and a thin tunic with elbow-length sleeves, but it was a close thing.  The fur of the cloak kept his body heat trapped inside, but he couldn’t open the fabric without meeting bone-chilling air that would steal his warmth in an instant.

Around two hours after their break for Castiel’s breakfast, a high pitched trumpet-like call sounded out from one of the dragons.  Their flight before that point had been silent save for the howling of the wind, so the dragon call piqued Castiel’s interest.

He hated every moment of it, but he opened the front of the cloak and crawled to the side of Dean’s hand.  The dragon had his thumb covering the space between his curled first finger and palm at Castiel’s request; he normally kept it open so Castiel could see out, but Castiel had voiced his worry about being cold.  But there was a small space at the center of the curl of Dean’s little finger that Castiel could peer out of.

He’d been expecting to see the dark navy blue of Benny’s scales, since the larger dragon had been keeping to Dean’s left throughout their travels.  But instead of blue, Castiel saw a dragon whose scales were a light cream color.

He couldn’t see much through the small space, and the frozen air dictated that he couldn’t look for long, so he was unsure how large or small the newcomer to their party was.  Whoever they were, they seemed to fly alongside Dean peacefully, so Castiel returned to his place in the middle of Dean’s palm and tried to get some sleep.

 

Castiel awoke when he rolled forward in Dean’s palm and smacked against the curve of his palm.  The motion made Castiel roll right out of the cloak he’d been sleeping in, and the freezing air had the angel swearing under his breath and fumbling for the warmth that could be found in the thick fur.  Dean opened his fingers while Castiel drew the cloak around himself, and the angel grabbed his backpack before crawling out of Dean’s palm and getting to his feet.

The wind outside was brutal.  It bit at Castiel’s exposed skin and stole his breath away, and there was no escaping it.  Even if Castiel tried to hide from the wind by not straying far from Dean’s bulk, it swirled around the dragon and found him easily.  It took Castiel a few moments to fight the cold to open his eyes and look around, and when he did, he felt as if he might go blind from the brightness around him.

They were surrounded by white, it blew through the air in little specks that covered the ground at their feet in a fine white powder.  The white air limited Castiel’s view to a few hundred paces in each direction, but it appeared that they were standing beside a sheer wall of a mountain cliff.  Castiel glanced around himself to ensure no one was paying any special attention to him before he crouched down and brushed his fingers against the white material at his feet.

“Wow.”  Castiel said under his breath, more small clouds escaping from his mouth and nose with each breath.  “Dean, is this snow?” Castiel called out over the howling of the wind, and Dean nodded his head quickly twice in a twitchy affirmative.  

“Wow.”  Castiel said again.  The snow was as cold as the air that was blowing around, which begged the question, how cold did it have to be that the very air could freeze into these little chunks?  What would happen if it got even colder? Would _all_ the air turn into snow?  What would Castiel and the dragons breathe if all the air turned solid?  Castiel wanted to ask Dean about it straightaway, and looked around for Claire to translate.

He and Dean were standing amongst the dragons that had accompanied them since leaving Castiel’s homeland, along with two new dragons Castiel hadn’t yet met.  There was a large one with scales the color of unsweetened chocolate that stood next to Bobby, it was a bit taller than Bobby at the shoulder, and had unusual spikes poking out at its elbows.  It had its back to Dean and Castiel, so the angel wasn’t able to see many details, save for the criss crossed lines of scars across its sides and back. The other dragon was tiny, it was several feet shorter at the shoulder than Dean and a full tail length smaller.

The small dragon fascinated Castiel immensely, it’s scales were the color of cream with just a touch of pink, and it was so small that Castiel thought the dragon must surely still be a child.  Castiel thought it might even be small enough to fit into his bedroom back home, provided that he widened the doorway first. The small cream-colored dragon stood close to Jody, but came closer to Dean and Castiel when it saw that Castiel was looking at him or her.

Castiel was about to greet this new dragon and introduce himself when a deep roar snagged his attention.  Castiel looked towards Samuel, who had been the one who bellowed, as he raised up on his back legs to slam his front paws against the side of the mountain.

Only now that Castiel was looking closer, he could see that he’d been mistaken.  They weren’t standing at the bottom of a cliff, but in front of a set of double doors that were taller than the castle Castiel had lived in with his family back home.  The doors were made of solid stone and ornately carved, depicting ten dragons flying in a circle around a single dragon that was standing inside a ring of fire with his mouth open in a roar and his wings spread.

Samuel hitting the doors made a boom loud enough to make Castiel’s ears hurt, and the young angel moved closer to Dean, fearful that the doors or the mountain above them might fall down on their heads from such force.  Samuel backed away from the doors, and Castiel waited nervously beside his betrothed for their knock to be answered.

A split appeared and slowly widened between the doors, and Castiel watched with a mixture of fascination and awe as two dragons became visible.  One large dragon pushed each door open, their thick-as-tree-trunks legs straining and muscles visibly bunching in an effort to move the massive pieces of stone.  The dragons pushed the doors until they were fully opened, and inside Castiel could see a huge, cavernous room that looked as if it could house his entire island.  At the far end of the room, which was so far away Castiel could barely see him, stood a human man with dark hair. In the cavern wall behind him was the firelit entrances to several small tunnels, and Castiel imagined the tunnels led to the very heart of the mountain.

Dean turned his head to click at Castiel, and the angel did his best not to stagger under the weight of his cloak and the push of the frigid wind.  Samuel, Bobby, Jody, and the new dark brown dragon went inside quickly, but Dean and the pink and cream colored dragon kept pace with Castiel’s shorter legs, with Benny following close behind them.  Dean had a wing held out awkwardly around Castiel, shielding him slightly from the wind and keeping the angel close.

Dean’s hovering had Castiel nervous.  He wish he’d thought to ask if he’d be in danger if anyone suspected the truth about his species.  He’d have to take extra care in his act of being a human.

Once they had passed the doors and the wind stopped biting at Castiel’s face, Dean tucked his wing against his back, and Castiel was able to watch the two dragons who had opened the great stone doors pull them closed.  The doors were at least fifteen, if not twenty, feet thick, with a grab bar made of iron and leather that each doorkeeper dragon closed their jaws around to laboriously pull the doors closed.

“This is amazing.”  Castiel told Dean quietly once the boom of the doors being closed faded into fainter and fainter echoes.  “Look how big this place is!” The scales around Dean’s eyes bunched up in what Castiel thought might be a dragon smile, and Castiel grinned back before looking around for Claire.  He wanted to introduce himself to the cream-colored dragon, seeing a member of Dean’s race that was so small was fascinating to him, and he wanted to know how old he or she was.

“Hello.”  Castiel said to the cream-colored dragon, taking a step away from Dean, but not daring to venture too far.  “My name is Castiel.”

The small dragon cortled quietly, and once again Castiel looked around for Claire.  He couldn’t learn this dragon’s name without her, after all.

Where there had only been one human when they entered the hall, now there were several.  A bald man was greeting the dark-haired human that Castiel had seen already, and flanking them both was a graying human man with a short beard, a woman with short-cropped hair, and Rufus.  But while there were more humans, there were significantly less dragons.

“Hey, where’d everybody go?”  Castiel said aloud, stepping around Dean to look for Samuel, Bobby, Jody, and the dark brown dragon who had travelled the last leg of the journey with them.

“Who are you looking for?”  A familiar voice asked, and Castiel wheeled around to look at Claire.  She was standing right where the little cream colored dragon had just been, and now the small dragon was missing, too.

Castiel stood very still and felt his face scrunch up in confusion.  A slow grin grew on Claire’s face and she watched him silently, her shoulders shaking with laughter that she didn’t let escape.

Castiel couldn’t comprehend it.  His brain _refused_ to believe what he thought he was seeing.  The young angel placed a hand against Dean’s scales to ground himself as he looked back at Benny.

Benny was gone, in his place was a tall, burly man that was picking up Castiel’s trunk and shouldering it was ease.  A human shouldn’t have been able to do that so easily, Castiel’s trunk was quite large, and packed to overflowing with enough of his belongings to get him through several weeks of living out of it.

What settled it for Castiel was when the lock on doors behind them loudly boomed shut.  Castiel could barely see the two dragons that had hauled the doors open and closed, they were blocked from his view slightly by Dean’s backside.  But he saw when they turned away from the heavy doors and seemed to crouch down. Castiel walked around Dean’s form in a daze, expecting to see the two dragons hiding or curled up to make themselves looks smaller, but instead there were two humans standing in front of the doors chatting with each other.

“You okay?”  Claire asked, coming up beside him.  Castiel turned his wide eyes to the girl, knowing now that Claire, for how completely she looked like a human, was something much more.

Claire took in Castiel’s wide-eyed disbelieving expression with a soft smile.  “Here,” she said, gently turning Castiel on the spot so he was facing the only dragon left in the room, the large maroon form of his soon-to-be husband.

“Watch closely,” Claire said, and Castiel took in a shaky breath.

Dean’s eyes were on the angel, watching Castiel just as closely as Castiel was watching him.  Dean’s form shivered for a moment, and then Dean seemed to be sucked into himself. If Castiel had blinked, he would have missed it.  One moment, Dean was a huge, fire breathing beast of hard scales and sharp teeth. The next moment, he was a man.

He was clad in fine breeches and a deep green tunic, with a brown belt around his waist and a cloak of dark gray hanging from his shoulders.  On his head was a simple silver crown, ornately carved but void of any jewels or other finery.

Castiel pressed an open palm to his mouth to hide his hanging jaw as the man crossed the distance between them.

“Castiel,” Claire said, and Castiel couldn’t look away from the man in front of him to glance at her, “ _this_ is our Prince Dean.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like every time I update I have to apologize for being so late. The every other week updates certainly didn't last long, but today I had a few hours to myself and I figured y'all have been super patient and deserved an update.  
> Sorry again for the late update. Nursing school is slowly killing me, but I've been making an effort and will continue to try to force writing time into my schedule.


	7. Chapter 7

“Castiel,” Claire introduced, but it seemed like Castiel could barely hear her over the roaring sound of blood rushing through his ears, “ _ this _ is our Prince Dean.”

“Hello, Castiel.”  Dean said, coming to a stop a respectful distance away from the angel.  The two studied at each other for a long moment, a small, pleased smile on Dean’s face as he looked the angel over.  More than a few tears leaked out of Castiel’s eyes, though he couldn’t seem to make himself wipe them away. Dean took a breath and bowed deeply at the waist, a more pronounced grin on his face when he stood straight and their eyes met again.

Castiel still had a hand pressed against his mouth that was hopefully hiding the fact that his jaw was just about on the floor.  He could feel his limbs trembling slightly, though it wasn’t from the cold, his cloak was keeping him plenty warm now that he was sheltered from the howling wind outside.  Castiel had no idea what to say, and he couldn’t seem to find his voice, regardless. All he could do was stare wide-eyed at the man that his dragon fiance had just become.

“You, you,”  Castiel stammered, barely able to force out a whisper.  “You’re a human.” Castiel knew his analysis was incorrect, humans couldn’t shape-shift into dragons, and humans certainly didn’t look like Dean.

Dean was several inches taller than Castiel, and appeared to be at least a decade older.  Though Castiel knew Dean’s appearance must be deceiving, because Dean was twenty, only two years Castiel’s senior.  Still, looking at Dean, the young angel simply couldn’t put it out of his mind. Dean looked older than Castiel’s oldest brother Michael, who was nearing his twenty-ninth year.  

But for Dean and Castiel’s close age, the two of them couldn’t be more opposite; Castiel looked like a boy on the verge of becoming a man, whereas Dean looked like he’d been a man for over a decade already.  His chest and shoulders were broad and his muscles filled in, while Castiel’s body was still long and stringy, with only a slight hint at the muscles he’d hope to develop later in life. 

Dean’s face was exceedingly fair; he had a strong jaw and a straight nose, with pink lips and short, dirty blonde hair that was styled nicely.  But his face also betrayed his race. Dark maroon scales dotted Dean’s cheeks and forehead. There didn’t seem to be any pattern to them, but they weren’t as close together as they’d been when Dean was a dragon, there were stretches of pale skin between each one.  When Dean smiled, Castiel could see sharp teeth, and his eyes had a vertical slit down the center instead of a rounded pupil.  

As odd as Dean’s eyes were on a human face, seeing that Dean’s eyes were the same as they’d been when he was a dragon comforted Castiel.  No matter how different Dean looked now that he was walking around with clothes and on two legs, he was still Dean.

Dean smiled kindly at Castiel, and didn’t laugh at him like Claire was still quietly doing.  He held out an open palm that, after hesitating for just a moment, Castiel numbly dropped one of his hands into, and Dean bowed slightly as he pressed his lips against the back of Castiel’s knuckles.  Dean’s hand was warm, his lips like the heat of a flame.

“I am so, completely sorry to surprise you like this, Prince Castiel.”  Dean said sincerely, then pressed another kiss to the back of Castiel’s hand before straightening completely.  “A dragon’s two-legged form is a secret of our race, and there are binding laws that prevented me and the rest of our party from telling you of our true nature.”

“It’s all right.”  Castiel whispered, soft and breathless, then bit his lip.  He felt more tears leaking onto his cheeks, and was quick to wipe them away this time.

“Sorry,” he said thickly, not sure why he was getting so emotional over this.  Dean slid a hand under his cloak and pulled out a handkerchief to offer to Castiel.

“These are tears of happiness, and not those of sadness, I hope?”  Dean said, and Castiel couldn’t help the quiet but manic giggle that escaped his throat as his fingers brushed against Dean’s fingers again.  

He’d expected to feel completely alone once they got to the Northern mountains.  He’d resigned himself to only hugging Dean’s face with his wings and talking through an interpreter.  And now here Dean was, gently cradling Castiel’s fingers in his very warm, very humanlike palms, practically holding his hand, and speaking to him with his own voice.

“I’m sorry.”  Castiel said again with more tears and a deep giggle that caught even him off-guard.  “I’m just really surprised to see you like this.”

“You have no idea how many times I wanted to tell you.”  Dean admitted, lowering his hand until he was holding only the very tips of Castiel’s fingers.  Dean held on for a moment like this, the two of them barely touching, before releasing Castiel completely.  His smile was still kind and sweet as he looked down softly at the young angel. “When I first met you in the fields of your island, I was sure I would go mad before we made it here.  It killed me to hear you telling Claire you were going to miss feeling close to someone. I assure you, my dear prince, I do not intend to let you be lonely, despite the distance from your kin.”

Castiel felt his cheeks heat up when he realized Dean meant to cuddle with him.  Not only cuddle, but have a full marriage, to do all the things that Castiel had previously discounted as impossible.  The very thought of a normal marriage with Dean filled Castiel with delight, not to mention put a deep blush on his cheeks.  He smiled broadly as he felt a sort of weightlessness take hold in his chest, and he couldn’t seem to school his expression into anything short of a beaming smile.  He dropped his eyes from Dean’s in surprise, glad though he was, and took a long moment to piece together a response.

“I’m glad that we’ll be able to.  It will certainly be easier with you so much closer to my size.”  Castiel said shakily, and Dean laughed softly as he lifted one hand to silently ask for the handkerchief back.  Castiel handed it over, and once again their fingers brushed and the soft touch lingered.  

His skin felt like Castiel was touching the flame of a torch.  It wasn’t  _ too _ uncomfortable since the Northern Mountains were so cold, but it was rather worrisome.

“Are you feeling well, Dean?”  He asked his fiance, and Dean smiled, but furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and tilted his head slightly.

“I feel very well, Castiel.”  Dean said, taking a half step closer with Castiel’s hands still warming in his fingers.  “Why do you ask?”

“You’re burning up.”  Castiel said, giving Dean’s too-warm hands a light squeeze.  “You feel like you’re ready to drop dead with fever.”

“Oh,” Dean said with a huff of a laugh, his furrowed expression clearing into understanding and a touch of amusement.  “I am a dragon, Castiel. Fire runs through my veins, we are an extremely warm-blooded species.”

“Oh.”  Castiel said, smiling and biting his lip again as he rolled his eyes at himself.  He felt like an idiot. He hoped that Dean would be lenient with his judgements. Seeing Dean looking so much like a human was a real shock to the angel, after all.

“I’ll explain everything in time.”  Dean promised, his tone kind and his expression blessedly soft.  “I’m sure there’s a lot we have to learn about each other that we’ve never considered.” -Dean fidgeted and glanced away shyly before continuing- “I for one was surprised to find that you weigh basically nothing.”

Castiel was quite sure that he blushed again.  He tried to not sound defensive when he answered, “Angels have to be light in order to fly.  I’m of average weight for my height.”

“I meant no offense.”  Dean said quickly, pausing with a worried furrow on his brow that didn’t clear until Castiel nodded.  “But we’ll have to let you try and lift a hatchling soon, so you can see what I mean about weight differences.”

“All right.”  Castiel said, willing to wait to learn about this together.

“All right.”  Dean repeated with another soft smile, the two fell silent, and Dean let their hands part again.  Castiel was quick to pull it back inside his cloak and pull the thick fur together.

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, “I’m being a poor host.  It’s just that I feel as if I’m meeting you for the first time again, you know?”

“It’s all right, Dean.” Castiel assured him, “I’m used to you being quiet.”

Dean threw his head back in laughter, and after a moment of mirth, he shook his head and turned a touch more serious.  “You’re really nice, Prince Castiel. I knew that you would be, from your letters, but I didn’t know you would be funny, as well.” 

Castiel pressed his lips together and shook his head.  His siblings had always been of the complete opposite opinion of Dean; they’d teased him all his life because he was  _ so _ unfunny.  Dean must just have nervous jitters or something.

“Thank you, Dean.”  Castiel said instead of correcting the dragon.  They’d be spending plenty of time together in the future, Dean would find out soon enough that he was incorrect.  Dean smiled at Castiel again, this time so broadly that his eyes wrinkled.

“I know you’ve met everyone,” Dean said next, growing slightly more somber.  “But we all look different on two legs, so I’ll re-introduce you.”

“Thank you.”  Castiel said with obvious relief, and Dean nodded once.

“Castiel, this is what Benny usually looks like.”  Dean said, gesturing at the burly man that had joined their group.  Benny was taller than Dean, with a short beard and an odd, flat hat.  Castiel could see dark blue scales on his face, neck, and forehead. Benny smiled at Castiel and bowed as best he could while balancing Castiel’s trunk on his shoulder.

“Right.”  Castiel said, mentally shaking himself.  In his shock, he’d completely forgotten his manners, and Benny had been patiently waiting to speak to them.  “Hello, Benny.”

“Prince Castiel.”  Benny said with a thick accent unlike Castiel had ever heard, and then he turned to Dean.  “If it suits you, I’ll go prepare Castiel’s bedroom.”

“Of course, thank you, Benny.”  Dean said, and Benny touched the tip of his hat to both Dean and Castiel before taking his leave.  Castiel watched him walk at a brisk pace towards the closest tunnel.

“Come, Castiel.”  Dean said, offering the angel an elbow.  “We have to speak to the Lord of these caves, Crowley.  He knows you’re an angel, so don’t worry about acting in front of him, okay?”

“Alright.”  Castiel nodded.  He felt a small smile pulling at his lips as he held onto Dean’s bicep and walked between Dean and Claire towards the other small group of people.

“Castiel, you know Jody.”  Dean said, motioning to the woman with short-cropped black hair with flecks of gray.  She had a familiar color of blue in the scales across her cheekbones, and when she turned and smiled at Castiel, the angel found himself smiling back.

“Of course he does.”  Jody said brightly, nodding her head to Castiel.  “What do you think of the Southern dragonhold so far, Prince Castiel?”

“It’s huge.”  Castiel answered, his face turning upward to look at the rock ceiling several hundred feet above him.  “And it’s very cold.”

“It gets warmer further in.”  Dean assured him, and Jody nodded in agreement.

“I’m not surprised you’re cold,” she told Castiel, “your island was very warm.  Turn up your furnace for now, we’ll get you some warmer clothes once we go to our rooms.  You’re staying with me and Claire tonight.”

“Really?”  Castiel said, turning to grin at Claire, who had followed them.

“Yeah.”  Claire said, also grinning.  “Mom’s your chaperone until we deliver you to your entourage.”

“Mom?”  Castiel asked, utterly bewhildered.

“Yup.”  Jody said easily, grabbing Claire by the front of her jacket to pull her close and throwing an arm over her shoulders.  “Claire’s my middle kid. She’s the one who put all this gray hair on my head.” Castiel laughed politely at that, and Dean excused the two of them easily.  He spoke softly to the angel as he led Castiel over to Rufus and a man with a short gray beard.

“Castiel, you know Rufus, and this is my Uncle Bobby.”  Dean introduced, and both men nodded politely to Castiel before turning their attention to their prince.

“Crowley’s reporting some minor rowdiness in his caves.”  Bobby said. “I’d suggest keeping a close eye on your sweetheart there.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up and he sputtered once or twice before figuring out what he wanted to say.  “I- I, uh. Of course.” Castiel glanced up slyly and saw that Dean’s cheeks were blushed with a soft pink.  “I was going to have either myself or Benny with him at all times. And Jody will be with him overnight.”

“Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.”  Bobby said with a small but amused smile, and Dean nodded seriously.

“Did he mention any families in particular?”  Dean asked.

“The Knights.”  Rufus said quietly, and Dean nodded again.  Though Dean didn’t seem troubled by the news, Castiel felt his breath quicken.

He’d known that a marriage between an angel and dragon wouldn’t be what Dean’s people were expecting, but after Bobby and Rufus gave him the cloak, he thought that the news of his race hadn’t been released yet.  If everyone already knew he was an angel, he could be in danger.

“We expected that, though.”  Dean said, pulling Castiel away from his racing thoughts.  “So long as they don’t cause trouble-.”

“Trouble is what they do.”  Bobby interrupted. “Azazel isn’t afraid of you, me, Crowley, or even your father.  Be on your guard, Dean, ‘cause we’re on our own while we’re here, and I can already tell you that Azazel won’t be pleased to meet Castiel, even without the added surprise of him having feathers on his wings.”

“Yes, sir.”  Dean said, and Bobby hummed at the dragon prince before turning on the spot and walking away with Rufus at his side.

“Dean, are the dragons upset because they found out I’m an angel?”  Castiel asked softly, and Dean plastered a smile on his face to turn to speak to him.

“Of course not.”  Dean assured him. “Nobody who knows about that would tell anyone.  And don’t worry about what Bobby said, Castiel. Benny and I will be with you all the time.  Nobody would dare do you harm, you’re a guest in these caves and under the protection of my father.  To strike against King John would mean civil war.”

Castiel’s eyes widened and he spoke quickly.  “I never meant to cause such strife amongst your people.”

“It’s not you.”  Dean assured him, his smile once again returning, though now it was more of a grimace.  “It’s me and my little brother. Azazel is the head of the Knight’s family, and he wanted me to marry Ruby, one of his nieces, but I was already promised to you.  That pissed him off, but he understood. Then he wanted Sam to marry Ruby, but Sam refused after he’d met her.” Dean laughed softly, “It turned into a huge scandal.  Our dad was so proud.”

“It seems I have a lot to learn about your politics.”  Castiel said, not knowing what else to say. He desperately hoped he wouldn’t be the cause of conflict amongst the dragon families.  He’d wanted his marriage to Dean to bring peace, not bloodshed.

“Not really.”  Dean said lightly.  “You’ll mostly be working with my mother.  She’s the one who deals with the human countries and other races.”  Dean gently lifted Castiel’s hand from where it was curled around his bicep and took Castiel’s palm in his hand.  Castiel felt his cheeks heat up and he bit his lip. He’d never held hands with anyone before. Well, he had, but his family and friends didn’t count.  He’d never held hands with someone he  _ liked  _ before.  He was really glad that Dean was the first.

“Dean, my boy!”  A loud voice boomed, making Castiel jump a little at the sudden noise.  Dean gently squeezed Castiel’s fingers and rubbed his thumb against the back of Castiel’s hand, the heat from his fingers leaving a tingling behind on Castiel’s cold skin that lingered even after Dean released his hand.  Castiel saw Dean smile as they turned to face who’d spoken. A short, dark haired man with jet black scales on his cheeks walked up to them with a smile on his face and his arms raised to pull Dean into a hug.

Crowley was a bit portly, very smartly dressed, and shorter than Dean but a bit taller than Castiel, with dark hair and pitch-black scales on his cheeks and neck.  His eyes were blood red with a bright yellow line around his vertical pupil, they were bizarre enough to send a shiver of unease down Castiel’s spine. The angel had to fight to keep his lip from curling back in disgust and his eyes from widening in fear.

“Crowley, it’s been too long.”  Dean said, not looking away from Castiel even when Crowley embraced him.  He had a puzzled look on his face, once that Castiel couldn’t fathom the reason for, and stood close to Castiel once the black-scaled dragon released him.

“You’re bloody right.”  Crowley agreed. “It wouldn’t kill you to come visit, I know your father isn’t having you do as much as you’ve let on.”

“He always wants me readily available.”  Dean said, and Crowley shook his head.

“I swear, that man is determined to work you to death before you’re thirty.”  Crowley looked to Castiel and beamed as if he’d just realized the angel was standing there.  “Ah! You must be Castiel. Dean has gone on and on about you over the past few years.” Crowley held out an open palm to Castiel, who had to push past a primal wave of fear before he let the dragon place a fire-hot kiss onto the back of his hand.  Dean hovered closely and stammered again before finding his words.

“Castiel, this is Crowley, lord of the Southern caves.  Crowley, this is Prince Castiel, Lord of the Southern Isles.”  Dean said, and Castiel bowed slightly to Crowley.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Crowley.”  Castiel said dutifully, then glanced at Dean and took his betrothed’s bicep again.  He had to struggle to control his facial expressions as the absolutely evil-looking dragon smiled at the angel with wicked, sharp teeth.  Castiel calmed only slightly when Dean covered Castiel’s fingers with his free hand and began rubbing warmth into his palm and wrist.

“I assure you, Prince Castiel, the pleasure is solely mine.”  Crowley said, and laid a hand upon his heart in apparent sincerity.  “But I’m afraid I must cut this short, there’s much to attend to, and I’m sure the two of you want to wash off the dirt of your travels before dinner.”

Dean nodded and thanked Crowley, and Castiel waited a moment to watch him walk away.

“Are you alright?”  Dean asked softly, and when Castiel looked up at his fiance, Dean was watching him with concern furrowing his eyebrows.  “I know this is probably a lot to take in.”

Castiel didn’t know if he was talking about Crowley, the dragon families anger, or seeing Dean looking like a human man instead of a beast that could cradle Castiel in a single hand.

“I’m fine, Dean.”  Castiel said, forcing a smile at the soft look of concern on Dean’s face.  “And I’m very glad to finally know this secret, I just had no idea there was any secret that was being kept from me.”

“You should’ve seen your face.”  Claire piped up as she came to stand beside Dean, and Castiel turned to scowl playfully at her.

“You could have clued me in.”  He said, inching closer to Dean.  The heat coming off him was wonderful, Castiel could feel it warming his skin even through Dean’s clothes and Castiel’s thick cloak.

“Ah,” Claire groaned, “trust me, if there was any way to tell you, I would have.  But you remember when I was going clammy when we were cuddling and talking in the Southern mountains?  It was because the magic was working on me, and it wouldn’t let me speak the words I wanted to.”

“It can be very painful.”  Dean explained when Castiel raised his eyebrows at Claire’s casual mention of magic.  “Even if you only  _ think _ about saying or doing something that would reveal the secret, the magic of our race ensures that you pay for it.  It’s rough, but it’s necessary. The only place we’re free of the spell’s influence is inside our own borders.”

Castiel looked from Dean to Claire and back again, once again flabbergasted that they would dare mention their species magical abilities to an outsider.  His parents had been very clear that the sharing of magical knowledge or even the mention of magical abilities was forbidden between species.

Healing magic was one thing, nearly every species had a version of it, but the magic Claire and Dean were speaking of was something else entirely.  Something that they shouldn’t be freely sharing with an outsider.

“Um, allow me and Claire to escort you to your room, Castiel.”  Dean said after a slightly too long pause. “We can bathe before dinner, and I believe we can find some warmer clothes that will fit you.”

“Thank you, Dean.”  Castiel said, walking at Dean’s side towards one of the tunnels.  He relaxed a little once they started walking, and was thankful that Dean didn’t continue on the subject of magic.  

“There’s so much I want to talk to you about.”  Dean said, falling back on his easy conversations and soft smiles.  He laughed at himself, and Castiel thought that happiness looked very good on him.  “But now that I can use my own tongue again, I can’t think of anything to say.”

“I have a question, if that’s alright.”  Castiel offered.

“Of course, Castiel.  Ask away.” Dean said as he guided Castiel and Claire down one of the passageways.  The floors and walls were solid stone, the ceilings supported by iron beams and lit by softly glowing lanterns that were placed so far apart that Castiel could barely see when he was in between them.  There was a cool breeze coming from deep within the tunnel, and Castiel pulled his cloak tighter around himself before he started shivering again.

“You said you are twenty?”  He asked, and he saw Dean’s dark form nod.

“I turned twenty at the beginning of the year.”

“It’s just that,” Castiel said, hoping that his words wouldn’t seem rude.  “You look much older than twenty year olds of any other race I’ve seen.”

“Oh!”  Dean exclaimed in understanding.  “Yes, that, well. It’s one of many differences between our races, I think.  Tell me, Castiel, is it true that angels are like humans in that they take twenty-two years to fully develop into adults?”

Castiel frowned.  Dean wasn’t far off, angels technically came of age at twenty, though they often married or served in the garrison as young as seventeen or eighteen.  However, twenty two years was an alright number to go with, as Castiel knew that male angels in particular still had some growing to do between eighteen and twenty one.

“That’s fair to say.”  Castiel said with a nod.

“Right, well.”  Dean said, “Dragons take only ten years to reach adulthood.  I’ve been an adult for nine and a half years now, since I presented as an alpha at age eleven.”  Castiel gaped at Dean for a moment before remembering his manners.  

“That is quite a difference.”  He said hoarsely.

“Do you find that upsetting?”  Dean asked softly, likely mistaking Castiel’s tone for something worse than simple surprise.  Castiel looked up at Dean now that they were passing by the light of a lantern, and saw an unmistakable nervousness on the dragon’s face.

“Not at all.”  Castiel assured him with a light squeeze on his arm.  “I’ve just never heard of a race that matures so quickly.”  He thought for a moment and added, “Your childhood must have been fleeting.”

“Mine was especially so.”  Dean agreed, “As was Claire’s.  She’s only eight years of age, and has already had to put her childhood behind her to serve the crown.”

“No.”  Castiel said disbelievingly, turning to look to Claire.  She had a small, sad smile on her face that absolutely broke Castiel’s heart.

“Yeah.”  She said with a shrug.  “The color of my scales match my skin, so I have to translate.  It’s the only way our race can keep up the appearance of having one form.”

“I see.”  Castiel said sadly.  “Still, it is a shame that you had to start so young.”

“That’s just the way it is.”  Claire said, still with a frown on her face.  “Mom and my siblings will never have to worry about where their next meal is coming from, though, so it’s worth it.”

The three fell into silence for a few moments as they walked the long, dark hallway.  Castiel was searching for something to say, and he was sure Dean was doing the same, when Claire piped up.

“What sort of trouble were the Knight family causing, Dean?”

“Bobby didn’t say.”  Dean said with a suppressed sigh.  “Hopefully it’s just normal protests or something.  I’d imagine if they’ve been getting violent, Bobby would have mentioned it.”

“Are you still going to dinner?”  Claire asked, and Castiel watched Dean carefully.  He looked uncomfortable, and chewed his bottom lip as he glanced at Castiel before answering.

“We might not stay very long.”  Dean finally said.

“Will some of the Knight family be at the dinner?”  Castiel guessed, and Dean nodded.

“Knights are the second most influential family in the Southern caves.”  Dean explained, “To exclude them would be a huge insult, no matter how inappropriately some of their family members have been acting.”

“Of course.”  Castiel said, keeping his expression blank.  “Will we be in danger?”

“Yes.”  Claire said, and received a dirty look from Dean for her brashness, though Castiel appreciated the honesty.  “That’s why I have to eat dinner alone in our room.”

“I won’t allow anything to happen to you, Prince Castiel.”  Dean promised solemnly.

“Thank you, Dean.”  Castiel said. He thought he was doing a good job at exuding calm, but he must have sounded nervous because Dean placed his fire-hot palm over Castiel’s fingers where he was holding Dean’s bicept.

 

For most of their walk to Castiel’s bedroom, Castiel was looking wide-eyed around himself with his mouth hanging open in awe.  Though the Southern dragonhold was often referred to as ‘caves,’ that is not at all what they were. Dean explained that they got the name from the original cave system that had been in the mountain, but any natural formations had long since been carved away.

The Southern Dragonhold seemed to take up the entirety of the mountain, though Castiel had to draw that conclusion from seeing only a small part of the massive system of tunnels.  At the center was a large circular shaft that dropped so far into the Earth that Castiel couldn’t see the bottom, even with the lanterns hanging at every level of the dragonhold. The lanterns hanging on the far side of the shaft from them seemed like tiny pinpricks of starlight from the distance.  Surrounding the shaft were wooden boxes with ropes attached to the tops, or merely ropes the plunged into the darkness below. Dean called the little boxes ‘lifts’ and laughed softly when Castiel voiced that he’d rather just fly down.

“They’re perfectly safe, Castiel.  I’ll be the one controlling our descent.”  Dean said, and it took a great deal of courage on Castiel’s part to take the crowned prince’s hand and join him and Claire in the lift.  He tensed and clung to Dean’s hand when the lift swayed slightly when Claire leaned over the edge, and Dean held his hand in steadfast reassurance.

“This is the brake.”  Dean said, pointing out a lever attached to a clamp on the rope.  “And this” -he grabbed a second handle on the lift’s ceiling that was attached to a contraption that had the ropes threaded through- “keeps us from falling too quickly.”

“Falling?”  Castiel asked, trying not to panic.

“Falling.”  Dean said, nodding at Claire to release the brake while he took the second handle in his grasp.  The lift lurched, and it was the first time Castiel feared falling in many, many years. The angel gasped and grabbed Dean about the wrist, an action he immediately felt silly for, as the lift began gliding downward at a slow and steady pace.

“Oh.”  Castiel said, releasing his fiance’s forearm, who was laughing almost as loudly as Claire.

“Do you not have lifts on your island, Castiel?”  Claire asked.

“The tallest building was my father’s castle, and it was only three stories in height.”  Castiel said. “So there was no real need for them. How many levels are in the Southern Dragonhold?”

“Too many.”  Claire said, and Dean hummed in agreement before answering.

“That’s a good question.  The McLeod family have thirteen levels, and the Knight family have seventeen.  There’s five common levels, and one level that’s the size of two. How many is that?”  Dean asked, and Castiel shrugged. He’d been listening, just not adding the numbers as Dean listed them.  “I’d have to ask Crowley.” Dean decided.

“Don’t forget the abandoned tunnels.”  Claire said, and Dean shook his head.

“Those don’t count, they don’t belong to any one hold.”  Dean said, and Castiel couldn’t help but indulge his curiosity.

“What are the abandoned tunnels?”  The angel asked.

“They’re at the lowest levels, they connect all the holds.”  Dean said. “They’re from a time long passed, when it was dangerous for our people to travel above the ground.  Nowadays they’re more dangerous than anything in the mountains, so they’re sealed tight and guarded carefully. Nobody uses them anymore.”

“Why are they dangerous?”  Castiel asked, wondering what on Earth could be dangerous to a dragon.  His own people were fierce warriors, and the angels had lost far more than half of their population during their short war with the dragons.

“The creeps live down there.”  Claire said, and Castiel frowned at her in confusion before looking to Dean for a better explanation.

“Technically, anyone is allowed to go into the tunnels, so long as they’re of age.  When a dragon is banished, they usually take shelter down there.” Dean said, and looked as if he was about to say more when Claire interrupted.

“Tell him about the goblins and the mist, Dean.”

“And according to children’s tales, there’s also goblins, flesh-eating mist, walking dead, and even giant rats in the lower tunnels.”  Dean said, grinning when Claire protested his quick dismissal of something she obviously believed as truth. Castiel grinned at her as well, but listened to Dean’s words closely.  “But honestly, the dragons down there are dangerous enough. Most of them have been banished for murder or similiar crimes, and the solitude and darkness doesn’t help their head cases.”

“I see.”  Castiel said with a shiver, and he once again pulled his cloak tighter around him.  “I’ll certainly avoid the abandoned tunnels, then.”

“Please do.”  Dean said seriously.  “Though, I couldn’t imagine that any of the guards at the tunnels’ gates would let you pass without a hell of an escort, adult or not.”

“Have you ever been down there, Dean?”  Claire asked, and Dean quickly shook his head.

“Absolutely not.”  The prince said, looking alarmed enough that he had Castiel shaking, though not from the cool air that was getting in through the gap at the bottom of his fur cloak.  “Nor would I ever want to. Those tunnels are cursed. To venture there is to ask for a painful, terrifying death.”

Castiel jumped in surprise when Dean squeezed his hand slightly, the dragon looking at him with a worried expression.

“I’m sorry, Castiel,” Dean said sincerely, “I’m not trying to scare you.”

“I’m not afraid.”  Castiel replied, wondering how he would ever be able to sleep soundly knowing what horrors were below each of the dragonholds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I AM SO SORRY for how long this has taken. The spring semester was awful, and I took a summer nursing course. Thanks for reading, I really do plan to finish this :)


	8. Chapter 8

There was a migraine raging behind Dean’s eyes.  It had been there for two days, ebbing and flowing ever since Dean had helped Bobby in healing the damage inflicted on him by the demons and hellhounds.  The magic’s toll on Dean’s spark had been overwhelming; even with Bobby’s help, Dean had barely been able to keep his eyes open afterwards. He would have slept all of the following day if it had been up to him.

He wished his migraine was organic in origin, Dean was a pro at curing regular headaches, but healing someone’s spark was an entirely different undertaking.  He wasn’t willing to risk it, even though he didn’t want his and Castiel’s first real meal together to be hindered by a migraine of Dean’s own weakness.

Dean knew what Bobby would do if Dean asked for his help.  He’d say that Dean needed to spend more time on his studies so that magic wouldn’t take such a heavy toll on him, and such a request would be included in Bobby’s report to Dean’s father.  Dean was sure that his father would have enough to criticize him for without any extra moaning on Dean’s part. Besides, he had more pressing matters on his mind.

Dean had made sure that he played the part of a perfect host for Castiel, but while flying, and more recently while bathing and readying himself for dinner, Dean’s thoughts had been racing.  Benny was sure to have noticed, though Dean hadn’t had the opportunity before now to confide in his right hand man.

He chose to do so now, before he walked his fiance into another dangerous situation.  He had to know that he and Benny were on the same page, and that Benny had his back.

“Demons and hellhounds are scared of dragons.”  Dean said, breaking the silence in his and Benny’s shared quarters.  “There’s never been an instance of them attacking one of us before.”

Dean saw Benny turn towards him out of the corner of his eye.  The dragon wore one of his best tunics, though even at a formal event such as dinner tonight he was required to wear shades of dark brown.  Benny’s scent was clear; decidedly neutral, the way he almost always smelled. The only thing that Benny’s scent ever gave away was his alpha pheromones.  Dean wished he had the same self-control his friend had.

“I was thinking the same thing.”  Benny said after a moment. “It’s not natural.”

“More than unnatural,” Dean said, relieved to finally be able to voice his thoughts, “the timing of the attack was, strategically speaking, perfect.”

Benny had a raised eyebrow when Dean turned towards his friend, and Dean made sure Benny was watching when the prince slipped a dagger into a sheath hidden under his left arm.  Weapons were strictly forbidden during dinners between heads of families. Dean, and especially Benny, could be punished severely for breaking that particular law. Despite the risk, Benny didn’t hesitate in gathering any weapon small enough to hide on his person and readying himself for violence.

“The way I see it,” Dean began, grabbing his werehide cloak and fastening it around his shoulders.  “Someone knew where the demon herd would be and made sure that there were as few guards around Castiel as possible.”  

“You think this was an attempt on Castiel’s life?  Claire couldn’t shift, couldn’t even breathe fire.”  Benny reminded him. “She was as much at risk as Castiel.”

“Claire’s had extra protection placed on her.”  Dean explained, revealing a secret Benny was never meant to hear.  “Bobby, my mother, all the best weavers were called to the capitol when she was born, to prevent another translator’s death.  Nothing as evil as a demon or hellhound would have been able to get within a few feet of her.”

“That’s, damn, so Castiel really was the only one they posed a threat to.”  Benny said. Dean’s nod of agreement was somber.

“Tell me what happened that night,” Dean requested, “from your perspective.”  Dean waited patiently for a long moment while Benny gathered his thoughts.

“After Jody and Bobby left to hunt, I pulled down a few saplings for a fire.”  Benny began, “Rufus had a small fire going when I returned to the campsite. I gave him the wood, and was preparing to gather more when Samuel sent Rufus into the forest.”

“Rufus’s duties were to stay and tend the camp.”  Dean accused. Rufus was Bobby’s best friend, not to mention a translator, but he was of the Henrikson family and therefore free to fulfill or abandon his duties as he pleased.  If Rufus willingly walked away, well, Dean didn’t know what to think of the dragon he’d known all his life.  

“You’re wrong about him.”  Benny said, standing unflinchingly in the heat of Dean’s angry glare.  “He saved Castiel from a demon. The thing had him. If Rufus wanted Castiel dead, he could have waited a mere second or two longer.”  Dean thought for a moment, then relented with a nod. Rufus wasn’t off Dean’s list of suspects, but he  _ was _ among the least likely.

Dean had to take a calming breath before he could ask; “Samuel, then.  Under what pretense did he send Rufus away?”

“He wanted Rufus to collect birds eggs and any wild vegetables he could find.  He said angels need to eat more than just meat, and it was our responsibility to meet those needs while Castiel was in our care.”  Benny said, shrugging in response to the bewildered expression on Dean’s face.

“Castiel isn’t a hatchling,” Dean protested, “why would he need more than just meat for such a short trip?”

“Do you know?”  Benny asked. “If angels need vegetables?”

Dean thought for a moment, and realized he had no idea.  “I’ll ask Castiel,” he decided, then sighed. “So Samuel sent Rufus into the woods.”

“Yeah,” Benny said with a nod. “Then Samuel sent me to secure a perimeter.”

“You’re meant to stay by my side.”  Dean said carefully, trying not to sound accusing.  Benny nodded, shamefaced.

“He ordered me to go.  When I heard your shout I returned to the camp as soon as I could, but the trees were too thick to take off, so I had to run.”  Benny admitted, and Dean sighed explosively and dropped his head into his hands to rub at his aching temples. He wasn’t mad at his friend for leaving.  Benny, along with the members of his family, couldn’t disobey a direct order. Much like the magic that worked on dragons outside of their borders to keep their two-legged forms secret, Benny would be in agony if he tried to disobey Samuel.

Benny was bound to Dean, but nearly any dragon could give Benny orders that he would have to follow, and only Dean’s explicit orders could prevent it.  With one suspicious near-death incident under Castiel’s belt, Dean would have to set clear and unmistakable expectations for his friend. Especially now that the people closest to Dean seemed to be either turning against him or, even if Samuel wasn’t trying to get Castiel killed, making the stupidest decisions possible.

“All right, listen up.”  Dean said, and the dragon prince had Benny’s undivided attention within a moment.  “You’re to be with either Castiel or myself at all times, excepting your breaks or dismissals.  If it’s a choice between accompanying myself or Castiel, defer to Castiel.” Benny nodded his understanding, and Dean continued.

“You’re obligated to follow only mine and Castiel’s orders from now on.”  Dean paused as Benny gaped at him, though he didn’t object to Dean’s breaking the law for the second time in under an hour.  “However, you should probably keep up pretenses of following orders, so that the two of us don’t get banished.”

“Damn, Dean.”  Benny said softly.  “I don’t know what to say.”  Dean was silent for a long moment, then turned to stare into the empty fireplace.

“Samuel sent everyone away, then left.”  Dean said softly. “My own grandfather.”

“Maybe it was a mistake.”  Benny offered, and Dean shook his head.

“Samuel is in charge of Castiel’s safe delivery to my mother.  He wouldn’t,  _ doesn’t _ , make mistakes.”  Dean sighed. “He’s always been slightly racist, but I thought he could put that aside while serving the crown.”  Benny was silent while Dean considered his options.  

“The demons still shouldn’t have attacked with you there.”  Benny pointed out, and Dean nodded.

“They were cursed.”  The dragon prince said flatly.  “There’s no other reason an entire herd would rush to their deaths like that.”

“Can you prove that?”  Benny asked. “The court would open an investigation if you could.”

“Without a live one, we don’t have enough proof to go to the court.  Your word will be worthless, and I could be too easily discredited. I can’t go to my father, either, I doubt he would be willing to estrange his father-in-law over a suspicion.”

“So what do we do?”  Benny asked, sounding every bit as desperate as Dean was feeling.

“Keep Castiel safe.”  Dean said, chewing on his lip thoughtfully.  “And trust no one. It’s just me, you, and Castiel now, and Sam and Charlie I suppose.  I’ll figure something out about Samuel.” Dean sincerely wanted to expand his list to include his parents, Bobby, and about a dozen others, but Castiel’s life was too precious.  Best to keep everyone at arm's length for the present.

“Okay.”  Benny said softly.  Dean was lost in thought until Benny added, “It’s time to go get Castiel.”

“Right.”  Dean said, shaking himself from his morbid thoughts.  He’d done all he could do for now, though what he could do was pitifully inadequate.  He had duties to attend to, appearances to keep. A fiance to court. “Right, Castiel will be waiting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all have been so patient, and so ridiculously nice to me for so long. Nursing school is coming to an end in December, thank you so much for sticking it out with me. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I've already started on the next one. You guys are the best, and as always, thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, I'm in nursing school and things are crazy, but I promise to try really really hard to update this semi-regularly. Maybe every other week? I'll do my best.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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